


We Rise: The Beginning of the End

by graygoyle



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, F/F, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Issues, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Occult, Platonic Relationships, Romance, Suspense, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2020-02-26 02:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 40
Words: 146,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18714442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graygoyle/pseuds/graygoyle
Summary: In a far-off swamp, MarshClan struggles to reckon with their greatest enemy: themselves. When law and order take precedence, is there still room for freedom? Follow Sedgepaw as she comes of age in a Clan that harbors secrets as deep and thick as blood, for she soon discovers there may be more to her destiny than simply becoming a warrior. The further she ventures in discovering her purpose, the more dangerous her journey becomes. Will she be the one to choose her fate, or is she at the mercy of a higher power? The answer lies within.





	1. Prologue

LIGHT, blinding and hot, it welcomed Sedgekit into the world with its unforgiving shine. It pierced through the tangle of cypress roots, hitting the nursery and providing its heat for the young kits nestled there. Though the brown fur on her face felt warm, her eyes burned, and the world around her overwhelmed her senses. It made her cry. A gentle murmur and a rasping tongue against her cheek pacified her loud mew.

"Close your eyes, Sedgekit," her mother murmured. Sedgekit was solaced by the affection in her mother's familiar voice. "The light is too much for your young eyes."

Sedgekit rolled over from her back, blinking the pain away. The nursery was quiet, and Sedgekit could see the slivers of sunlight that penetrated through the canopy of roots. She screwed her blue eyes up to see her mother, Fernstream, gazing down on her with concern in her green eyes. Sedgekit gave a small smile, crawling between her resting siblings, Yewkit and Mudkit, to nestle close to the white fur of her mother's chest. Fernstream smelled sweet and the purr she gave was like a lullaby. She peeked up from her chest gingerly, afraid of being blinded again.

"Sleep, Sedgekit," Fernstream cooed. "You don't need to see the world all at once."

Sedgekit yawned, fighting the wave of fatigue wracking her little body. Her tiny claws kneaded the mossy bedding they nested in anxiously. The sun was so bright, but it could shine light on so much. The mysterious scents and sounds that perplexed her for so long could finally be visualized. She felt her heart skip in her chest.

"But-" Her mewl was silenced by Fernstream's soothing licks and reverberating purrs. Soon, Sedgekit surrendered to sleep, shutting her eyes to the world once more.

"Oh, my Sedgekit…" Fernstream trailed off, sweeping her plume-like tail around her three kits. "My darlings." She frowned. "I pray to StarClan that your destinies will be merciful, but if they aren't, promise me you won't give up. Promise me."

"That's quite the burden to place on our kits so soon," a joking voice interrupted Fernstream. Her green eyes found her mate, Shaleheart, standing in the entrance of the nursery. His golden eyes glowed. "Let them enjoy their innocence, Fernstream."

Fernstream was not amused by his light-hearted remark, and she refused to look at him again when he crossed the shadows of the nursery to settle beside her. She did allow a small smile to cross her face, however, for the feeling of his nose pressing against her cheek struck a chord in her heart.

"I'm their mother. I'm allowed to worry," she retorted half-heartedly, smile fading. "They already have so much against them… I fear they will not know how to handle their fate when the time comes."

"Show some faith," Shaleheart advised. "They're our kits, after all. They can take on anything."

"Easy for you to say," Fernstream rebuked, "you didn't receive the vision that I had. The prophecy they've been given is not gracious."

Shaleheart stared at his mate and kits, silenced by the worry in her tone. His smile reappeared, however, and he was optimistic. "Maybe not, but I knew from the moment I saw our kits that they would be capable of doing great things."

Fernstream nodded slowly. "That's what I'm afraid of." As she gazed at her sleeping kits, the echo of her ancestors whispered in her head. _The birth of three who were not meant to be will give rise to revolution._


	2. Trial and Error

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Trial and error** , _idiom_  
>  A process of determining the correct way in which to do something by making multiple attempts and learning from any possible failures or mistakes.

HAMMERING against her chest, Sedgepaw could feel her heart about to burst in its rib cage. Her white paws kneaded into the cool sand. Her pulse coursed through her veins like the rushing stream beside her. Droplets of water splashed from the babbling brook to kiss her toes, prompting her claws to unsheathe. Before her stood a small, dusky black cat, and his tail was lashing aggressively. Sedgepaw could feel her spine stiffen at the sight of his burning orange eyes, which bore into her own golden ones menacingly. They were deadlocked between their flaming glares, and the impasse did not break until the screech of a distant kestrel inspired Sedgepaw's strike. The broad muscles in her shoulders tightened when the tomcat dove to her left, as if sensing her intention to land the first hit, and he faked her out with a swipe at her ear. He was fast, a dancing shadow armed with teeth and claws. Sedgepaw's ear was ringing, but she doubled back and curled her lip at him.

"Cheap shot," she hissed. Her back was to the river, she could hear it running behind her, trapping her.

The tomcat chuckled, his graying, scarred muzzle twisting into a mocking grin. "But you're so big and tough, you should be able to handle little ol' me," he taunted.

Sedgepaw glared and darted towards him with a frustrated yowl. She intended to pin him down and let her fangs do the talking. A bite to the throat would fix his sneer. Her paws hit sand instead of her target, for he vanished in a twist of black fur and a wake of disturbed dust. Her attacker twisted downward and snaked towards her underbelly, where his hind legs batted her tender stomach relentlessly. Sedgepaw gasped out startled breaths, her chest heaving in fear when she realized her mistake. Rolling away, she got back to her paws after putting distance between them again. Her brow furrowed, and she tensed in preparation to spring.

"Enough," he grumbled, getting to his paws. The tomcat gazed across the sandy shore with a stern frown on his broad face. "I can only handle so much disappointment in one session."

Sedgepaw ducked her head, sitting with defeat coloring her features. "I was closer this time, Batface," she argued grudgingly.

"Could have fooled me." He rasped his tongue methodically against his paw before rubbing it against his flat muzzle with a grunt. "You're still a thoughtless, impulsive opponent."

"Ouch," Sedgepaw grumbled, resting on her haunches with a roll of her eyes. "You really know how to flatter a she-cat, Batface."

Batface spat, stamping his paw onto the sand. "Enough with the sass… You will never become a warrior if you charge at your opponent like a startled boar." His gravelly voice was tinged with distaste.

Sedgepaw rolled onto her back and groaned. "I'm sorry, okay? But it's just so annoying! Whenever I come at you, you're gone. How can I get stronger if I can't even land a hit?"

Her mentor approached her, his shadow casting over her pouting face. "Strength is not what you're lacking, Sedgepaw," Batface assured her. "You can hit hard."

Sedgepaw's golden eyes screwed up to gaze at him hopefully. A smile slowly crept on her face. "Is that an actual compliment, Batface?"

He frowned and swatted her nose with an annoyed hiss, "It's too bad you're a mouse-brain that can't think on her toes."

Sedgepaw's eyes watered and she sneezed after receiving his scornful gesture. She sat up as he stalked passed her, heading towards the rows of skinny pine tree saplings that framed the riverbank on the crest of the slope. She flinched at his sharp glance, but when he turned tail she stuck her tongue out at him. Once he had disappeared beneath the low-hanging branches, she wallowed in self-disappointment.

"Wow, you really rubbed his fur the wrong way this time," Yewpaw observed.

Sedgepaw swung her head around to see her sister and her mentor, Palemist, standing side-by-side. With a grimace, she turned her head away and pretended they were not there to witness her pouting display. Palemist slipped by, walking on her dainty silver paws wordlessly; she melted into the shadows of the pine trees, and Sedgepaw could hear her soft murmurs of consolation for Batface. Sedgepaw took a swipe at the sand, imagining it to be her mentor's disapproving face.

Yewpaw's pink nose poked at Sedgepaw's shoulder. "Do you always give Batface such a hard time?"

"Ugh, not you too?" Sedgepaw snapped. "So what if I want to do things my way? My way's better! If he wasn't such a flaky fighter, tch, dancing around on his toes like a heron… I'd probably win."

Yewpaw laughed and shook her head. "Probably." She stared at Sedgepaw with concern glazing over her green eyes. Shrugging sheepishly, she continued, "But if you want to become a warrior with me and Mudpaw, you-you're going to have to start listening to him."

"Yeah, yeah," Sedgepaw grumbled. She knew Yewpaw was trying to encourage her, but she could only feel a twinge of gratefulness in her aggravated state of mind. Fixing her sister with a glare that slowly softened into a gaze of gratitude, she leaned against her with a huff. "We'll get there... together."

Yewpaw beamed and traced her tawny tail along Sedgepaw's back. "Always!"

"Hey, you two!" Batface's yowl echoed from the thick of the pine trees. "Hurry along, or I'll drag you both back to camp like naughty kits!"

Sedgepaw rolled her eyes, getting to her paws and dashing for the slope. The pine trees shed their needles onto the ravine, and they scattered to the sandy bank below as Sedgepaw and her sister scrambled up. The sinking sun burned amber, and its dimming glow soaked through the petite pine trunks to light the forest floor with golden stripes. Sedgepaw ran through the rows of shadows and light, which took turns dimming and flashing before her eyes as her paws carried her through the trees. She could feel Yewpaw at her heels. She laughed and unsheathed her claws, playfully digging up pine needles in her sprint, which rose up into Yewpaw's face, pricking her nose.

"Hey, watch it, you!" Yewpaw hissed, nipping at Sedgepaw's thick, dark brown tail.

Sedgepaw laughed louder, breaking through the dense pine forest and into a sea of bright green palmettos. Their fanned out palms whistled in the wind, and Sedgepaw could see the tails of their mentors standing tall among them. The floor of pine needles thinned to dust, and Sedgepaw jumped into the mass of palmettos with a crash. Yewpaw followed soon after, landing beside Sedgepaw with a soft pant. Then, a third crash sounded. Sedgepaw stiffened.

"What in the-" Sedgepaw's bewildered question was interrupted when a mass of mottled brown fur collided into her. With her breath knocked out of her, her golden eyes bulged as a heavy tomcat knocked her onto her back. His head blocked out the setting sun, which outlined his massive head and broad, tufted ears.

"Mudpaw!" Yewpaw hollered.

Sedgepaw hissed as her brother tried to pin her down. She could hear the deep rumble of laughter in his chest when she was seized by a sneezing fit, for their collision disturbed the dust enough to assault her nose. "Fresh-kill!" he yowled.

Sedgepaw glared up at him, not keen on the idea of being defeated twice in one day. Flexing the thick muscles in her hind legs, she pushed up against his chest, sending him bowling backwards into the palmetto fronds. "And so the hunter becomes the hunted," she hissed, diving after him with an excited laugh. Revenge was sweet.

"Oh, no!" Mudpaw squeaked. "The big, bad Sedgepaw's gonna get me!"

"Damn right I am!" Sedgepaw growled, her eyes noticing his white-tipped tail above the green palm fans. She sprang just beside it, knowing her pesky brother would be there. "Gotcha!" She hissed, feeling him squirm beneath her white paws.

"Hey, I give! I give!" he screeched frustratedly. Sedgepaw raised her chin haughtily, crushing him into the dust. "Gah! Dammit, Sedgepaw! I can't breathe!"

"Serves you right, you foxheart!" Sedgepaw taunted. Her feathery tail curling with amusement.

Yewpaw's voice of concern sounded from behind her. "Come on, Sedgepaw, I think he's learned his lesson." The fret in her voice was clear, and Sedgepaw knew she was antsy for their truce.

Sedgepaw backed off, giving a snicker. Mudpaw rose from the palmettos with a loud, exaggerated inhale, giving a few coughs before mock-fainting. Sedgepaw laughed again, but Yewpaw was unamused, glaring between her two siblings with the irritation of an exasperated mother.

"Oh, I am on my way to StarClan now!" Mudpaw wailed. "Big, fat Sedgepaw crushed me like an ant!"

Sedgepaw curled her lip at the remark and swatted down at him, making him squeak in surprise. "Shut your face, Mudpaw, or I'll really send you off to StarClan."

"You guys are so annoying," Yewpaw grumbled, stalking away from them with her tail dragging. "Can we hurry along, now? I'm hungry."

Sedgepaw followed after her sister, kicking dust on Mudpaw as she left. He gave a cough and trailed after them, but not without giving his sister's tail a swat. They continued to bump shoulders on the way back to camp. Yewpaw led the way with her ears twitching in annoyance. Sedgepaw brushed against her, offering her an apologetic smirk, and Yewpaw responded to it with a snort and a shake of her head. Feeling Yewpaw brush back up against her made Sedgepaw aware of her forgiveness. Meanwhile, Mudpaw was still keen on taunting his siblings, nipping at their tails in rotation.

Sedgepaw gazed up at the sky, watching it melt from a blood-orange hue to smoky blue. The strips of silver clouds became nearly transparent as the sun settled against the horizon, allowing the moon to materialize amongst the first few stars. Tranquility soothed Sedgepaw's young, vibrant heart, and she glanced between her two siblings with contentment on her face. They were apprentices for three moons now, and before long they would be warriors of MarshClan. Before long, they would not have the time to take leisurely strolls.

The ground beneath her paws dampened and the palmettos no longer grew from the earth. Instead, the ripe scent of bog hit her nose, and the city of maidencane and reeds developed, towering above the three apprentices. Any other cat would be intimidated by the tender, watery marsh between their toes and the sight of foliage creating a wall before them, but Sedgepaw and her siblings were unperturbed. This was home.

"Finally!" Yewpaw mewed. "We're back."

Instead of diving into the shady depths of the reeds, Yewpaw splattered into the boggy water. Her sister rolled in the mud, letting the murky brown gunk slick across her fur. Her pelt had layers of reddish-brown which paled into tawny at the ends of her body, but once she dove into the mud, she was just one layer of brown. As for Mudpaw, his mottled brown fur became a shade darker with his new pelt of mud. Droplets of it oozed from the tips of his ears, and he gave his body a shake, showering Sedgepaw in beads of rank-smelling sludge. Despite the odor, Sedgepaw flopped into the swamp with her siblings. The various blotches of brown on her pelt only darkened when she soaked herself. The mud helped to slick their fur, granting the apprentices to slip through the serrated stalks of sawgrass and cane without injury.

Sedgepaw went first. Her muddied paws carried her swiftly through the grasses, which hissed and hustled quietly against her, carrying the whispers of her Clanmates. Their familiar scent embraced her with warmth and beckoned her deeper, deeper into the darkness of the forest of reeds. Then, a light, a pale light penetrated through the swaying stalks, and Sedgepaw and her siblings entered a clearing. It was a grassy clearing that sat before a broad lake which captured every single star on its dark, watery surface. The moon bleached the clearing of its color, hiding behind a collection of cypress trees with curtains of tangled moss dangling from their droopy branches. The faces of numerous cats turned towards her, their eyes glowing in a fashion parallel to the alabaster sphere above.

"You're late," Fernstream's hushed voice greeted them.

Though Sedgepaw caught her mother's sweet, familiar scent before she appeared, her sudden materialization from her periphery had startled her. There was a glimmer of worry in her green eyes, and her visage was not smooth and welcoming. The tabby stripes that contoured her narrow face conveyed graveness. Sedgepaw felt her heart sink into her stomach.

"Late for what?" Mudpaw piped up, gleefully unaware of their mother's solemnity.

Yewpaw pressed against Sedgepaw, and she knew her sister felt the same amount of concern for their mother when she hesitated to respond to Mudpaw. "Fernstream?" Sedgepaw prompted anxiously.

Fernstream's green eyes flashed when she glanced down at her kits. Her long, feathery tail swept towards the clearing. MarshClan was gathering there. "There is a trial," she explained poignantly. "Whitestar summoned the Clan before the Fallen Cypress; it's starting now."

Sedgepaw exchanged glances with her siblings, they all had eyes as wide as the moon. This would be the first trial she witnessed, and instead of feeling excited, she felt… scared. Yewpaw and Mudpaw left her to trail after Fernstream as she led the way towards the Fallen Cypress. The swell of its gray roots were coated with spongy green moss, upchurned by the Great Storm moons ago. The length of the trunk was severed by lightning, leaving the lower half to withstand the test of time while its branches and leaves were no longer, having withered long ago. It now rested hollowed and lopsided, a far cry from the towering glory it used to be. Sedgepaw's leader, Whitestar, stood on the trunk. Behind her, Mother Lake held the pale light of the moon; its vast surface challenged the broadness of the heavens above, holding in it all its starry wonders in a rippling reflection.

Whitestar's severe, sharp voice rang out for the entire camp to hear. "MarshClan, gather!" she commanded. Under the moonlight, her amber eyes burned like embers. "With urgency, I must address the latest crime brought to my attention."

There was an excited murmur that erupted among the cats. They exchanged whispers with bobbing heads and swaying tails, eager to share what they already knew of the trial with each other. Sedgepaw perked her ears to decipher what was being said, but it was nothing but a mess of slurs and garbled phrases to her. It seemed her heart was hammering again; this time, it rung loudly in her ears drowning out what was being said around her.

Whitestar's voice rung out in a fierce hiss, "Silence!" The muscles in her shoulders rippled when she stomped her paw onto the crest of the cypress. "The trial begins now. Bring the accused forward."

Sedgepaw reared back on her hind legs, wanting to see who was being brought before their leader. She caught a glimpse of a skinny brown tabby, he was being dragged by his hind legs, for Grayjaw had his claws lodged there. The big gray and white tomcat drug Vinestripe across the ground as if he was a limp piece of prey. The flash of terror in the accused's green eyes was apparent.

Vinestripe? Sedgepaw held her breath, seeing her Clanmate writhe and hiss in the grip of Grayjaw pathetically.

"Watch it, Sedgepaw," an aggravated voice snapped behind her. It was Zinniablossom. The cranky tortoiseshell screwed her eyes up to glare at the apprentice with annoyance. "Sit on your tail and show some respect."

Sedgepaw grumbled and landed on her forepaws. Again, she was blind to the ordeal, for the sea of pelts impeded her vision. Furrowing her brows, she pushed forward to the front, ignoring the hisses aimed at her bustling. By the time she reached the point where she could see, Vinestripe was sitting upright with his head bowed. His bloody haunches stuck out awkwardly to the side, and Sedgepaw could see the gleam of raw terror in his eyes. The moonlight bore onto his lone figure; the silhouettes of the cats gathered around him were nothing but rows of glowing, accusatory eyes. Something in Sedgepaw's chest twisted grossly, and she suddenly wished to be in the back of the Clan again, ignorant to the sight before her.

Whitestar piped up again, "Before us is Vinestripe, a warrior of MarshClan. Formerly honored for his obedience and utility to our Clan, that honor stands to be relinquished because of his actions." She bowed her head gravely. Sedgepaw could see thoughts running through her leader's eyes, and she did not speak for awhile. The only sound was the chorus of screaming frogs and the whistle of crickets. Then, she continued, "A warrior's duty is to their Clan."

Sedgepaw knew Whitestar was about to recite MarshClan's warrior code, and she tensed up at the thought of breaking it herself. Even in the shadows of the night, Sedgepaw could see Whitestar's beliefs burn as bright as the stars above. Each utterance was delivered with certainty by her leader. Sedgepaw could see Vinestripe tremble between each syllable and she felt herself do the same.

"A warrior must serve their Clan to the greatest of their ability. Every aspect of their life must hold the well-being of the Clan and its future dear. When a warrior goes astray, they are to face trial." Whitestar narrowed her eyes at Vinestripe. "Vinestripe," she called to him harshly, and he rose his head to her. "Do you know why you are on trial?"

The tomcat flinched, his eyes dancing around at his Clanmates nervously. He shook his head and spoke timorously, "I do not." Vinestripe cleared his throat and raised his chin again. "I-I serve in the best interest of my Clan. I always will."

There was a rush of murmurs that swept through the gathered cats. Some sounded hopeful, others were plagued with doubt. Sedgepaw was silent, staring at Vinestripe and his shivering frame intently. Vinestripe… You're lying. She could tell, for every word he spoke was uncertain and frightened. A truthful warrior spoke clearly and proudly.

Vinestripe was transparent to Whitestar. She frowned at him, her visage becoming severe. "You had your chance to speak the truth."

Vinestripe struggled to intervene before she continued. "But, Whitestar! You know I am loyal! I wouldn't do anything to-"

"Silence!" She snapped, her amber eyes burning down on him. "Vinestripe you are a liar and a disgrace to our Clan."

"No!"

Whitestar raised her tail for silence. Vinestripe obeyed. Not even the distant frogs or crickets sang their nighttime song anymore. Sedgepaw felt suffocated by the silence, and she could feel her fur begin to prickle. She had only heard tale of what was to come, but unlike her Clanmates, she did not bear an eager gleam in her golden eyes. Instead, she braced herself on Vinestripe's behalf.

"MarshClan does not tolerate dishonesty, Vinestripe. You are expected to take charge of your post while on guard and act as an extension of myself. And yet... You were seen swapping secrets with the Fallen."

Sedgepaw felt her throat tighten when Vinestripe wailed, "You have no proof of that!"

Whitestar shook her head, looking disappointed in his reaction. With a flick of her long tail, she summoned, "Witnesses, proceed. Let us unmask the squalor."


	3. To Skin a Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **There's more than one way to skin a cat** _idiom_  
>  There are many methods one may employ in achieving one's ends. This expression may be an American version of the earlier British "more ways of killing a cat," but why the death of a cat should be alluded to at all is not clear.....

DISTANT cries from an owl echoed through the swamp. A cool breeze caused the reeds to shiver and the branches of the cypress trees to hiss. Sedgepaw shivered with them, but not for the chilling wind. Instead, it was the sight of her prosecuted Clanmate that iced her bones. She wrapped her tail around her white paws, tightly hugging herself with it. Hopefully, her fear was not evident in her scent. MashClan took pride in unveiling the sinners; the only ripe scent of fear that could be inhaled was coming from Vinestripe. He was sitting before Whitestar, enduring her judgmental glare, while the hateful murmurs of his Clanmates surrounded him. The dark stripes on his russet fur ensnared his thin legs in spirals, climbing like vines to his petite shoulders, threatening to drag him into the earth below. If Whitestar had her way, Sedgepaw feared Vinestripe really would end up buried tonight.

"Vinestripe," Whitestar yowled, "the witnesses of your transgression will now speak."

From the ranks of MarshClan, two cats stepped into the spotlight of the moon. One was a sleek, dark brown she-cat, Otternose. Her black nose was raised with pride, and she regarded Vinestripe with a pompous smirk and disdainful glare. The other was the rookie warrior, Minnowtail, and he refused to make eye contact with anyone but his white toes. Sedgepaw remembered his ceremony, for it had only been a moon prior. At that time, he was brimming with confidence and joy. Now, he appeared downcast and defeated.

"Otternose," Whitestar beckoned promptly. "State your claim against Vinestripe."

Otternose bowed her head to their leader, before fixing her amber eyes onto the quivering Vinestripe. Bleached by the moon's oppressive glow, he seemed to shrivel like a withered vine. Sedgepaw tasted bile in the back of her throat when she heard the squeaky, fastidious voice escape Otternose; she was keen on skinning Vinestripe with her accusations in order to expose his tender insides to the masses. "I always suspected Vinestripe for harboring secrets. He was painfully docile and eager to please," she began, her long tail coiling like a viper about to strike. There was an echo of agreement between the gathered cats around them. "He never wanted to attract too much attention, whether good or bad, but most importantly…" Her voice trailed off and a theatrical "pause for effect" ensued.

"This is wrong." A soft mew preceded the feeling of fur brushing up against Sedgepaw's flank. Shaken from her intense focus on the trial, she turned to see Blueflower beside her, staring with wide eyes at the unfolding scene before them. Those bright blue eyes flickered to her, and Sedgepaw could not look away, she was lost in their depths, drowning. They shone like the moon above, but there was a twinkle in them she could not ignore. She could see pain and fear, and she recognized those emotions because she felt the same.

"What do you mean?" Sedgepaw whispered, surprised by the amount of desperation in her own voice. "Isn't this what's supposed to happen?"

"That doesn't make it right," Blueflower replied, her gentle voice breaking. Her long, blue-gray fur glowed under the moonlight like a dayflower's petal, but the expression on her face was dark.

Before Sedgepaw could respond, Otternose's accusatory voice piped up again. "Vinestripe always showed a peculiar amount of interest in Clan politics." Even as her hiss stabbed the silence of the Clan, shattering it with her hateful tone, Sedgepaw did not look away from Blueflower, though her Clanmate returned her attention to Vinestripe's trial. "He always shadowed Whitestar, and when I challenged him, he shied away. Once I mentioned my suspicion to Minnowtail, it all became clear."

Vinestripe's head snapped up then, and he whipped his head around to stare at Minnowtail. He was standing beside Otternose, still refusing to meet his Clanmate's wounded green eyes. "Minnowtail?" Sedgepaw's ears twitched when she detected a hint of shock in the warrior's voice. Was it really so unexpected for Minnowtail to speak out against him? If so, why?

Whitestar continued to supervise the exchange between her warriors. Her eyes narrowed at Minnowtail. "Otternose, what did Minnowtail share with you when you voiced your uncertainty to him?" she prompted.

Otternose obliged her leader's request. "Apparently, Vinestripe was mysteriously leaving the warriors den for the past moon." Sedgepaw saw Otternose's eyes sparkle when her words ignited an uproar of excited whispers among her Clanmates. "Minnowtail, concerned for his Clanmate, followed him into the swamp… Where he saw him speaking with the Fallen."

Sedgepaw stiffened when she felt the tension break in the gathered crowd of MarshClan. Hisses of disgust and rage boiled up from their tongues to fill the air with heated prejudice against Vinestripe. Glancing around at the faces of her Clanmates, she saw nothing but shock, fear, and hate. There was only one face that remained empathetic, and it belonged to the she-cat beside her: Blueflower. Her round face was solemn, her small muzzle tilted downward as if she were mourning, and her impossibly bright blue eyes were full of an emotion that Sedgepaw did not recognize. Among the chaos of her indignant Clanmates, Blueflower was silent, but her body language spoke louder than any caterwaul. She was grieving for Vinestripe.

Whitestar's yowl brought a cessation to the madness among the ranks of MarshClan, and their outrage simmered down to waves of restless, dodgy bright eyes and discontented murmurs. MarshClan's leader flickered her amber gaze onto Minnowtail, who remained silent for the entirety of the trial thus far.

"Minnowtail," Whitestar began, "you came forward as a witness, did you not? Witnesses are obligated to voice their claims, yet you have let Otternose consume the floor without qualm."

"My apologies." Minnowtail nodded once, tucking his white chin against the feathery fur of his chest. "Well," he rasped. "I-This, uhm, experience has stunned me, Whitestar." He hesitated, his green eyes honing in on his white toes, which unsheathed and sheathed his claws repeatedly, nervously.

"You are not alone in this," Whitestar assured him. "Now, tell us what happened."

"What Otternose said is true." Minnowtail's timorous voice resounded weakly like a wailing frog. "Vinestripe disappeared into the night… more than once."

Before the uproar reoccurred in the masses, Whitestar rose her long tail for silence. Sedgepaw could see Vinestripe, but he was no longer hanging his head with shame, instead, he was staring into Minnowtail. The expression on his face was twisted into a confusing combination of pain and anger. Minnowtail was ignorant to the accusatory glower of Vinestripe, however, for he only stared at his paws. Otternose regarded the exchange with a smug expression and a keen tilt of her head.

"I-I thought he was an insomniac at first," Minnowtail confessed, a crooked smile on his jaw. A ghost of a chuckle faintly entered the clearing, escaping his lips weakly, but it faded when Minnowtail spoke again. "I mean, why else would you waste precious sleep? It was absurd… But I was worried. I wanted to make sure he was okay; I care deeply for him. I never expected him to be meeting with the Fallen, but I-I cannot deny what I saw"

"I see… How unfortunate," Whitestar mused.

Otternose chimed in when given the opportunity. "It's true, and it's such a shame. Vinestripe was a good warrior, but he let his transgressions get the best of him."

"Don't." Vinestripe's voice rung out in a somber rasp. "Don't speak of me as if I am not here." He rose to his paws, voice trembling as he spoke loud enough for all to hear. "The Fallen are still one of us. They just want a freer, better life!" His green eyes flashed to Whitestar. "Day in and day out… We do what she says, and why? What for? She doesn't care about us. She only cares about power. They all do! If StarClan is real-"

"Enough!" Whitestar snapped. "You dare defy me? Question our way of life? Question StarClan?" Her clipped tone was sharp enough to snap the maidencane around them. Swift as a scythe slicing through wheat, she struck Vinestripe with her accusation. "Do realize the punishment for your crime? We have two witnesses, and that is all we need to condemn you, Vinestripe. Let alone that heinous speech of yours. Condemned cats do not exist to us in MarshClan." There was an echo of agreement from the gathered Clan cats coming to aid their leader in her ruling. "You are Fallen."

Sedgepaw stood up then, brought to her feet by her subconscious; it felt like strings plucked at her limbs to bring her upright, but she failed to understand why. All around her, MarshClan was hooting and hollering at the success of the trial. They were a mess of gesticulating shadows, relishing the downfall of their once respected Clanmate as if he was a decadent meal. Unmasking a Fallen was a cause for celebration, but this did not seem right at all to Sedgepaw.

 _Vinestripe, won't you say something?_ Sedgepaw bit her tongue. She wanted to say something in the warrior's defense, though she scarcely knew of him or his personal life. She was still a young apprentice, making friends of a warrior was not common for her age. Yet, she felt an arcane kinship between them. Somehow, they shared something, and Sedgepaw could hardly stand to watch him remain exposed to the vicious slurs aimed at him. Fear held her back. The gnawing sensation of fear reminded her of the consequences that lingered for those that spoke out in support of a Fallen. The wretched possibilities burrowed into her, preventing her from articulating anything but a soft whimper.

"Typically," Whitestar added, "you are granted final words before we banish you. However, you lost that privilege by orchestrating that horrid parade of words in the middle of your trial."

From her pedestal, Sedgepaw could not perceive Whitestar as anything but a hallowed persecutor, and she was frightened. She should venerate her leader, but when she gazed up at Whitestar, her blood turned to ice. She was far above them, out of reach, but she brought her gavel down on Vinestripe with divine force.

Vinestripe only bowed his head. "There is nothing to say. I know that the gravity of my words mean nothing to you all… You've passed your judgement." His eyes were shut as he murmured, and Sedgepaw could barely understand him, for his tone was nearly inaudible. "I deny nothing." His voice rose an octave. "I regret nothing."

"Silence!" Whitestar hissed at him. "I hereby declare Vinestripe to be Fallen, for he has lost his grace in the eyes of StarClan as a result of his betrayal. From this night and beyond, he will not be allowed on our sacred grounds. From this night and beyond, he is no longer one of us, but an outcast. MarshClan has no place for the Fallen." Whitestar bowed her head solemnly, and silence followed, thick and heavy. It was as if they mourned Vinestripe's death rather than his departure. The distant, ethereal song of the crickets became a requiem.

Vinestripe stood shakily, blood trickling down from his hind legs where Grayjaw wounded him. Sedgepaw was trembling on her paws as she regarded her Fallen Clanmate. Otternose and Minnowtail disappeared into the crowd surrounding him, and he was alone. Sedgepaw glanced up at the stars for the first time that night. They sparsely peppered the dark sky, twinkling in silence. There would be no divine intervention tonight.

"Claytooth," Whitestar summoned her warrior. "Escort Vinestripe with Grayjaw to the edge of our territory. See to it that he leaves and never returns."

Claytooth materialized from the shadows of the Fallen Cypress. His russet fur stuck out at awkward angles as if he struggled too much when his mother used to bathe him with her tongue. His bright yellow eyes flickered to Vinestripe, and he greeted the Fallen with a curled lip. Grayjaw reappeared as well, coming from the crowd to stand beside Claytooth with a malignant visage, albeit more vicious because of his protruding lower jaw. His bottom fangs curled into his upper lip like a boar's, giving the impression of a permanent glower. They flanked Vinestripe on either side, looking like two mountains towering over a tiny valley, but Vinestripe did not shiver. He stood with a look of resignation on his face even as Grayjaw swatted the back of his head with a massive gray paw.

"Alright, you, let's go," Grayjaw growled.

As the Fallen disappeared through the reeds with his escorts, the Clan exploded in a frenzy of conversation. With wild eyes and shocked faces, they recalled the happenings of the trial as if it happened a moon ago, retelling it and twisting it to fancy their imaginations. Sedgepaw did not join in. Her belly tightened and her heart clenched. This isn't right. This isn't right. This isn't right.

"Hey! Wasn't that crazy?" Mudpaw hopped to her side and yowled in her ear. Sedgepaw nearly jumped out of her fur. "Woah there!" He laughed. "Maybe we should start calling you Rabbitpaw instead?"

Sedgepaw sighed and glared at her brother. "Very funny."

"Come on, don't be a stick in the mud! That was the first trial we've ever seen! Aren't you excited?" Mudpaw pressed. The bright gleam in his amber eyes threatened to outshine the moon.

Sedgepaw tried to ignore the disgust she felt towards him. "Why are you so fascinated by it? I thought it was boring… And mean."

"Nonsense!" Mudpaw argued. "My mentor Longscar said we're better off without those traitors."

"Mudpaw!" Fernstream's scorning voice chimed in as she left the gathered cats to join them with Mistpaw shadowing her. "I'll not tolerate you speaking such harshness at your age." Her sharp glare switched from Mudpaw's sheepish face to Sedgepaw's. "And you need to respect our trials, Sedgepaw. Without them, we would never be in StarClan's favor."

Sedgepaw frowned. It seemed she was alone in her dislike of the trial, but then she remembered Blueflower's face and thought better of it. "It just seems unfair. What's so bad about-"

"Not another word, Sedgepaw!" Fernstream hissed, eyes wide with fear. "You cannot ever doubt our ways. You're an apprentice of MarshClan, you must uphold our beliefs!"

Sedgepaw ducked her head, ignoring Mudpaw's taunting snicker. He just seemed to be happy that Fernstream's scorn was focused on her instead. She grunted and rolled her broad shoulders with a grudging look on her face. "Fine…"

Fernstream sighed shakily and rasped her tongue over Sedgepaw's shoulder. "I know it's a lot to understand, but you'll come to see that it's all for the better." Her nose lingered before Sedgepaw's face, and she glanced up at her mother questioningly. "Sedgepaw," she whispered, "you need to promise me that you won't contest the trials again."

Sedgepaw tilted her head. Why was she still pushing this? Sedgepaw snorted, giving her mother a reassuring smile. "Okay, okay, I get it."

Fernstream leaned back and exhaled loudly. "You kits will be the death of me."

Yewpaw stepped out from Fernstream's shadow and made a face of feigned offense. "But I thought you loved us!" she wailed.

Mudpaw joined in, giving a mock-cry of hurt. "Fernstream hates us!"

Sedgepaw laughed and noticed her mother's amber eyes melting into a gaze of adoration. She shook her head at Yewpaw and pressed her head against her kit. "How could I ever hate my precious kits?" She began to bathe Yewpaw's ears with her tongue.

"Bleck! Okay! I was just teasing," she protested, her tawny fur standing on end.

Sedgepaw added a teasing remark, "Aw, how cute." She could see Yewpaw flash her a glare, but that only made Sedgepaw smile wider. In this moment, it was easy for her to forget the misfortune that fell on her Clanmate only moments ago.

Fernstream laughed and relented from her attack of loving licks. "You three should go off to your nests now. Your mentors will surely need you up with the sun."

"Of course, Fernstream!" Mudpaw piped up, curling his tail excitedly. "Longscar said he'd show me some awesome battle moves."

"All the more reason to rest up." Fernstream pressed her nose to each of her kits' ears before disappearing towards the collection of reeds and ferns that made the warriors den.

Sedgepaw was relieved to be freed from her mother's scornful gaze, for she was able to glance about the dissolving mass of MarshClan cats. She was searching for that blue-gray pelt of Blueflower's among the assortment of tabbies and bicolors. Somehow, the she-cat vanished. The only she-cat that seemed to show a shred of sympathy for Vinestripe was gone, and Sedgepaw felt alone in her dilemma. Yewpaw and Mudpaw took turns yawning while Sedgepaw became statuesque in her pondering.

"Anyone in there?" Mudpaw teased, impeding Sedgepaw's wandering eyes by shoving his face a whisker's length from hers. "Maybe it's time for some shut-eye? You look lost."

Sedgepaw headbutted him. "I'm at a loss for words, actually." Her bushy tail curled in amusement. "I have no idea how your mug got so ugly."

Mudpaw's ears flattened, and he rose his paw in preparation for a swing. Sedgepaw flinched but felt no blow, for Blackpaw's voice chimed in.

The apprentice was standing beside Toadpaw with a keen look on his narrow face. His long, black fur gleamed in the moonlight like a raven's feather. "Some trial, right?" He did not sound pleased in the slightest, his voice was dripping with sarcasm and his cynical grin was so lopsided Sedgepaw feared it would fall from his snout.

Toadpaw gave a hiccup, or perhaps a chortle, and his wide-set amber eyes glinted. "At least we got that traitor out of here." His husky frame shook with another chortle.

Sedgepaw did not even grace them with a glance. Instead, her eyes peered over Mudpaw's shoulder, spotting Blueflower retreating into the den of knotweed and plumegrass that composed the warriors den. Wait!

Yewpaw distracted the other two apprentices from Sedgepaw's blatant disinterest in them by indulging them with her reply, "I could barely hear a thing! I was stuck in the back with this chattering squirrel." Her reddish-brown tail flicked at Mudpaw, and he shrugged carelessly.

"Well, I can share with you what I saw tomorrow?" Blackpaw offered. Though Sedgepaw was ignoring them, she did not miss the amorous overtone in Blackpaw's voice. "I had a pretty good spot," he boasted. "Toadpaw and I saw the whole thing."

"You didn't miss much," Sedgepaw interjected bluntly. "I was in the front, and it was actually pretty boring." She cast Blackpaw a smug glare when Yewpaw gave a huff of disappointment.

"You seemed pretty interested to me," Blackpaw retorted. "The way you were gawking at Vinestripe, I thought you were going to wail on his behalf."

Sedgepaw bristled, and she felt the fur on her face burn. "I was just shocked is all!"

Blackpaw rolled his green eyes, pushing passed her with a contemplative grunt. "I had a feeling he was an odd bird. With those dodgy eyes and that stuttery voice of his; Grayjaw told me he was a twitchy flake."

Sedgepaw was growing tired of Blackpaw's rambling; he was famous for harping on himself and his beliefs. It made Sedgepaw want to snap those persistent strings so he could only babble like a dazed kit. With her long, mottled brown fur still bristling, she watched Toadpaw waddle after Blackpaw on stumpy legs into the apprentices den. The primrosewillows that composed it shivered upon their entry; their skeletal red stems and trunks swallowed the apprentices before the curtain of drooping leaves hid the entrance again.

The weight of the night finally crashed on Sedgepaw's shoulders, and her tail drooped with fatigue. "What a night," she whispered.

"I agree," Yewpaw replied before yawning again. "Come on, let's rest."

"Me first!" Mudpaw chirped, diving into the den with a ruckus. His white-tipped tail vanished behind the branches, and Sedgepaw smiled fondly when she heard Toadpaw squeal a complaint at her brother for being so noisy.

Pushing through the draping branches, Sedgepaw noticed her friend Ospreypaw was already nested in her bedding of moss. Her black and white fur rose and fell calmly, and Sedgepaw envied her ability to surrender to sleep so soon after Vinestripe's conviction. The entire floor of the apprentices den with thatched with layer upon layer of the wiry gray moss, sponging any moisture that seeped from the emersed roots of the primrosewillows, but it collected in heaps where the apprentices made their nests. Sedgepaw felt like she could collapse anywhere, though.

Taking her spot between Ospreypaw and Yewpaw, she rested on her back in order to gaze up at the indigo sky through the trembling leaves. The stars suspended above stared back, blinking wordlessly. She could hear her denmates' breathing start to slow one by one as they fell asleep, but Sedgepaw remained alert. Vinestripe's defeated face was branded in her mind's eye, forcing her thoughts to revolve around it. She prayed for sleep until it came. When it did come, it was as if the night sky fell onto her, crushing her in darkness.


	4. Bodies in the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Load Me Up** \-- _Matthew Good Band_
>
>> There's bodies in the water  
> And bodies in the basement  
> If heaven's for clean people, it's vacant  
> And hey, are you know?  
> And hey, are you being careful?  
> And hey, are you lukewarm?

DARKNESS surrounded Sedgepaw. The riverside appeared monochromatic, for there was not a sliver of light to be seen. In the disappearance of the sun and moon, color was lost. The shadows of the pine trees and cypresses contorted upward instead of resting against the muddy shore, forming a black ribcage on either side of the running water. Sedgepaw gingerly stepped closer, opening her mouth to test the air for any signs of life. MarshClan's territory was deathly quiet, no scuttling prey in the reeds, no birdsong in the branches, no splashes in the water. The only sound came from Sedgepaw's heart, which was steadily beating faster.

This was not home. She wanted to run, but the sand that flanked the river cemented her paws into the ground. The muscles in her limbs rippled in vain for escape. When she opened her mouth to yowl for help, nothing left her throat. Swelling shadows engulfed her, and the swamp was pitch black; only the ghostly outlines of the foliage could be seen.

Panicked splashing resonated through the still swamp. Sedgepaw jerked her head around wildly, searching for whatever broke the dreadful silence. It echoed and faded before picking up again, only to echo and fade once more. It sounded like a wounded duck flapping against the current. Still immobile, Sedgepaw inhaled sharply when the river seemed to come towards her. Her periphery became a blur, and all she could perceive was the massive stream before her. It looked like the night sky was trapped in its watery abyss, holding the twinkling stars hostage.

Breaking from its surface, Sedgepaw cried out in surprise to see Vinestripe. His eyes were bulging from their sockets like two green buds about to burst in a bloody bloom. With his jaws agape in horror, only garbled caterwauls escape him. The brackish water flooded his mouth as he struggled against the weight of it. Sedgepaw likened the sight to mosquitos being flooded by tree sap, soon to be entombed in amber. Once in the midst of it, there was no means for escape. She was helpless to save her Clanmate as his skinny limbs flailed in the black waters, crying and wailing to no avail. Then, a cloud of red swelled beneath the surface, cocooning around Vinestripe's neck so that only his bobbing head remained visible. In the water, everything became red, and Sedgepaw exclaimed in horror when she realized it was blood, Vinestripe's blood. The blossoming gore dominated the entire river, consuming it in its scarlet miasma as Vinestripe's eyes rolled to the back of his skull, turning the sockets a milky white.

To Sedgepaw's horror, Vinestripe's lifeless body was not alone. Several cats' heads buoyed at the red river's surface now, but Sedgepaw could not recognize any of them. Their faces were petrified in permanent expressions of terror, and they floated passed Sedgepaw downstream into the void. Their eyes held bulging white eggs with branches of angry red blood vessels for nests. It was evident their last living moments were unpleasant.

"Sedgepaw," they whispered from motionless mouths. "Help us."

The echo of their plea rattled her bones. Sedgepaw could not even extend a paw towards them to bring their bodies ashore. She was frozen, useless, hopeless.

"Sedgepaw, Sedgepaw, Sedgepaw."

Sedgepaw squeezed her eyes shut, trying to drown out their repetitive imploring with her frightened protests, but she could not articulate anything more than garbled screams. _Where am I? Take me home! I want to be in MarshClan!_

"Sedgepaw!" She felt herself falling from the sandy bank, into the darkness. "Sedgepaw!"

Shaken from the monochrome forest and its bloody river, Sedgepaw now stared at the displeased face of her denmate, Ospreypaw. Her yellow eyes glinted with concern, but her voice remained deadpan. "You've been in here all morning, tossing and turning like a worm being mauled by ants."

Sedgepaw sat up with a groan. "I feel like a worm that's been mauled by ants," she admitted. Every muscle beneath her pelt ached. She was stiff from nose to tail-tip, but the images of her nightmare were the most unbearable.

"Well, snap out of it," Ospreypaw grunted. The black patches of fur beneath her yellow eyes rose when she offered an apologetic smile after being so blunt. "Whitestar called a gathering. There's a ceremony going on," she explained with an inkling more patience.

"Ceremony?" Sedgepaw yawned. Her mind was in a fog, and she could not surmise for who or what the ceremony would be for.

"Did I stutter?" Ospreypaw never stuttered, but Sedgepaw shrugged as if uncertain. She could hear her friend give a huff of annoyance. "Lilykit and Pebblekit are having their apprentice ceremony this morning, remember?"

Sedgepaw pondered, trying to recall the news. All her thoughts were occupied by images of bodies in the river. Their strangled expressions. Vinestripe's screams. Memory of a simple ceremony was drowned by a bloody current.

"Sedgepaw," Ospreypaw pressed, "do you need to see Redleaf? You're acting strange."

"No-no, it's nothing, Ospreypaw," she assured her. "Let's go watch the ceremony." Seeing the medicine cat was the last thing she wanted to do; if she told Redleaf of the pictures in her head, he would condemn her to bed rest for eternity. An insane warrior was a useless warrior.

Ospreypaw squinted her eyes at Sedgepaw with uncertainty before leaving the den. Sedgepaw followed that black tail into the sunlight where the scent of her gathered Clan nearly drowned out the aroma of blossoming flowers and evaporating dew drops. The morning air was sweet and warm, and there was no pandemonium. Everyone conversed with giddiness at the upcoming event; they twittered like the birds in the trees, surrounding the two kits that sat before the Fallen Cypress where Vinestripe was condemned the night before. Sedgepaw wondered if the stains from his bloodied haunches still remained on the grass. She could feel her insides churn at the realization that her Clan carried on as if they did not just exile one of their respected Clanmates on the same spot that they were about to venerate new apprentices. It's like it never happened...

Ospreypaw took a seat near the nursery, where the buttonbush shrubs skirted a large cypress. The tree's shadow presided over a portion of the clearing with its formidable height and Sedgepaw sat in it, happy to escape the brightness of the morning sun. The spiny white blossoms of the shrubs complimented the sweet scent of milk escaping the between the branches of the cypress. Sedgepaw was comforted by the nostalgia the wafting aroma carried, but it was not enough to soothe her anxiety. That dream had to mean something, but what? Ugh, why me?

Whitestar took her place on the Fallen Cypress, raising her tail for silence. At the foot of the stump, where the spongy green moss bloomed, sat her deputy, Spiderfang; his amber eyes were alight with determination… and some other emotion Sedgepaw could not identify. In the clearing sat two small kits, and Sedgepaw gave a snort. They were a puny lot considering their age. She took pride in being one of the largest apprentices; no one ever dared to trifle with her, except for mousebrained Mudpaw. Still, her intimidating size did not erase all sense of fright from her; she could still feel her heart race at the thought of being beside the bloody river again.

"Lilykit's nose is so high." Ospreypaw observed with twitching whiskers. "It may grow wings and fly off if she keeps it up."

Sedgepaw made a scoffing noise. "And her littermate is quivering in his fur." The little gray tomcat looked like he wanted to shake the darker dapples on his fur off with all his shivering. "I could squish these two rookies between my paws like nothing," she boasted, curling her white toes with pride.

"And Dewpelt will squish you in return," Ospreypaw replied wryly. "I would rather jump into an alligator's jaws than mess with her kits."

"I bet Spiderfang pushed for their ceremony to come early," Sedgepaw gossiped, her ears swivelling slyly. "Dewpelt's kits are still only five moons old, after all. He's been going on and on about needing more warriors since she birthed them."

Sedgepaw was so consumed with her gossip that she failed to realize the Clan fell silent. Though she kept her whispers conspiratorially low, she did not evade Whitestar's scornful glare. With all eyes on her, she dipped her head with a nervous snicker, rasping her tongue bashfully over her chest. Ospreypaw shook her head, a small smile on her face, and Sedgepaw knew she would salt her wound later. She could feel her heart sink when she realized Batface would scorn her for her lack of politeness as well. The day already had a rotten start.

"Now that I have the Clan's full attention," Whitestar began pointedly, "we can begin the ceremony."

With the two kits ruminating with anticipation, Sedgepaw remembered her own ceremony. She and her littermates could barely contain their excitement. The idea of finally serving her Clan ignited a flame in her heart that still burned. Every word and formality was fresh in Sedgepaw's memory, as if it happened the day prior.

"The desire to achieve, the ambition to succeed, these are the traits of a warrior," Sedgepaw whispered the ceremony's preface in unison with Whitestar. "MarshClan thrives on the will of its members to serve the stars, protect the code, and defend our livelihood."

Sedgepaw sighed heavily, for the weight of her responsibility did not become clear until she saw her first trial. Never before had she considered that condemning Fallen was a part of her duty to MarshClan. She tried to ignore the quiver in her burning passion for her Clan; it was a necessary evil, she tried to convince herself. MarshClan could only survive if it remained in the good graces of StarClan.

"Lilykit, Pebblekit, from this day until the consummation of your warrior ceremony, you will learn our ways and uphold our beliefs with every fiber of your being. You will learn to wield your strength and execute your knowledge in the name of MarshClan."

From the crowd of gathered MarshClan cats, Sedgepaw noticed the sleek brown pelt of Snakefang and the golden brown tabby fur of Mothfur separate from the mass of cats. Snakefang had his nose in the air, as usual, and he stood before trembling Pebblekit with critical amber eyes. Sedgepaw tried to stifle her snicker in vain, for Pebblekit shrivelled like a worm in the sunlight beneath Snakefang's glare. As for Mothfur, he strode towards Lilykit with solemnity on his broad face. Sedgepaw wondered why such a brooding, unenthusiastic warrior would be chosen for a mentor. Lilykit met Mothfur's stare with a grin of certainty, and Sedgepaw tried to ignore her growing dislike for the cheeky new apprentice.

"Mothfur," Whitestar began, "you have long served our Clan with dignity, and your practiced pride is a trait to be admired. Therefore, I charge you with Lilykit's training in hopes of you bestowing your wisdom and noble determination onto MarshClan's new apprentice."

Mothfur bowed his head before inclining towards Lilykit to rest his chin on her head. In turn, she rasped her tongue across his shoulder, sealing the bond of warrior and apprentice.

"Snakefang," Whitestar started again, "though you are still a young warrior, you continuously serve our Clan with zeal, and your enthusiasm for the Code and our ways is a trait to be admired. Therefore, I charge you with Pebblekit's training in hopes of you bestowing your ardor and undying loyalty onto MarshClan's new apprentice."

Snakefang nodded. "Of course, Whitestar." He inclined his head to rest on Pebblekit's head. The little dappled gray tom hesitated before rasping his tongue across his shoulder.

"Now that Lilykit and Pebblekit have accepted their mentors, I hereby pronounce them Lilypaw and Pebblepaw!" Whitestar announced happily. Sedgepaw was taken back by the austere leader's uncharacteristic delight. "MarshClan, let us cheer for our newest apprentices and wish them good tidings for their training to come!"

"Lilypaw! Pebblepaw! Lilypaw! Pebblepaw!" The chorus of cheers drowned out the morning's birdsong. Sedgepaw joined in with the others, applauding the new apprentices despite her misgivings. "Lilypaw! Pebblepaw! Lilypaw! Pebblepaw!"

However, Sedgepaw noticed a particularly silent Clanmate. Just as she had stood out the night before, she stood out in the daylight. Blueflower's blue gray fur was just as luminous under the sun, and her bright blue eyes, they were downcast once more. She did not cheer for the apprentices, instead, her eyes averted the crowd of rejoicing Clan cats. She was watching the sky, looking for something amongst the wispy white clouds. Sedgepaw frowned, concerned, but her abruptly glanced away when Blueflower's enigmatic blue eyes turned to her.

"What are you gawking at?" Ospreypaw wondered, sounding annoyed. "Shouldn't you be cheering with the rest of us?"

Sedgepaw gave a snort. "I thought I saw a butterfly." Her reply was nearly drowned out by the applauding cats around them.

Ospreypaw shook her head, her mouth becoming slant with her lack of amusement. "How interesting. Did it wave at you as it fluttered by?" she asked sardonically.

"No, it was too busy staring at the cranky she-cat sitting beside me." Sedgepaw joked.

Ospreypaw remained unamused and rolled her stormy yellow eyes. Sedgepaw leaned against her friend with a goofy smile on her face, trying to perk up her perpetually bitter Clanmate. While most cats were averse to spending time with Ospreypaw, for she always looked like she just swallowed bile and had the attitude to boot, Sedgepaw found her charming beneath that prickly black and white pelt. Ospreypaw glanced at Sedgepaw, giving her a ghost of a smirk before shoving her back.

"Get off me, you big lug."

Sedgepaw laughed and shoved her back, and Ospreypaw responded with another in retaliation. Before long, the two were locked in a wrestle, each trying to knock the other over. Sedgepaw cracked a broad grin when she realized she coerced laughter from Ospreypaw in their jostling. The fun ended prematurely, however, for Batface's shadow loomed over the apprentices and he cleared his gravelly throat.

"Play time's over, apprentices," he decided. His short, black tail lashed impatiently, and the pensive gleam of his amber eyes threatened to burn a hole in Sedgepaw's mottled brown fur.

Sedgepaw untangled herself from Ospreypaw with a huff. Her long fur stuck out at various angles like ruffled feathers, and she gazed at her mentor bashfully. "Of course, Batface." I'd be a mousebrain to think play time wouldn't be over with you around… She thought grudgingly.

Beside him, Molefoot was smirking at the two apprentices. The grizzled black cat looked like they wanted to join in on the tussling, but conceded to Batface's seriousness with a stern nod. "It's time for our morning routine, Ospreypaw."

"Since you two are paired, we'll be training together today," Batface explained.

Sedgepaw nodded, acknowledging the fact that paired apprentices often train together, building off each other's strengths and weaknesses. It was the best way to train hard and learn fast, but Sedgepaw always loathed paired training days; Ospreypaw was faster and more agile than she, and if the day began with a race, Sedgepaw knew she was already beat. Glancing behind the two mentors, Sedgepaw noticed her littermates Yewpaw and Mudpaw joining their pairs. Mudpaw hopped alongside the waddling Toadpaw, jabbering like a jackdaw. Yewpaw and Blackpaw were leaving camp, their pelts brushing, and Sedgepaw wrinkled her nose at the thought of Yewpaw spending the day with Blackpaw. The only thing he'll be training is his pick-up lines.

"This way," Batface urged. "We're wasting daylight."

Molefoot stretched their short legs, which were noticeably ticked with odd white patches of fur, too thin to be considered spots. A loud yawn escaped them. "Don't put too much pressure on them, Batface," they warned. "Apprentices should learn to enjoy their training."

Smiling, Sedgepaw nodded at the warrior in agreement. If only she had them as her mentor. They was always carefree and warmhearted, unlike the bossy, moody Batface. Her ears flattened when she heard Batface's retort.

"Nothing is enjoyable about training. It is meant to be diligent and challenging. Being a warrior is not a game."

When Sedgepaw noticed Ospreypaw nodding in agreement she grumbled at her under her breath, "Don't encourage him."

Ospreypaw frowned, but said no more as they approached the boundary of reeds and maidencane surrounding the camp. Batface pushed through first, looking like a shadow melting into the pale green and yellow stalks. Sedgepaw let Ospreypaw dive in after him, uneager to follow too close behind her mentor. He seemed grumpier than usual. Molefoot hesitated before the reeds, which whistled invitingly at them to venture into their depths. They turned to Sedgepaw, smiling as he pressed his nose to her ear.

"Don't mind Batface," they murmured. "He means well."

"He has a rotten way of showing it," Sedgepaw replied resentfully.

"You will probably be his last apprentice. You're his legacy."

Sedgepaw's golden eyes became wide as the moon. "No pressure."

Molefoot gave a chuckle, whiskers twitching. "You'll make him proud, I know it. You'll make all of us proud."

Feeling rejuvenated, Sedgepaw went after Batface and Ospreypaw into the reeds. She could hear Molefoot tail her, and together they snaked through the jungle of maidencane. It combed through her pelt, stealing some fur on her way out. When she burst into the marshy grass that surrounded the camp, Batface and Ospreypaw were already running through the palmettos. Molefoot rustled from the reeds to stand beside her, and Sedgepaw saw a twinkle in their eye.

"Let's catch up!" the warrior chirped.

Bursting into a sprint, Sedgepaw kicked up clods of mud in her wake. It splattered against her long pelt, and she became a darker shade of brown. Batface led the charge, his tail standing straight like a flag. Ospreypaw dashed through the palmettos effortlessly, and Sedgepaw struggled to keep pace with her friend. The thick muscles beneath her pelt felt heavy as they rippled, carrying her with endurance in mind rather than speed. Molefoot brought up the rear purposefully, keeping a wary eye out for danger from behind. They skirted the pine forest that hugged the winding river, heading south where the cypress trees ruled alongside vast oaks and birches, which stood tall amongst the bog. The remnants of dawn's fog filtered through the varying trunks of foliage, carrying the pungent odor of prey and rich soil.

Batface halted before the massive swamp, gazing in silence. Sedgepaw struggled to catch her breath beside him, her ears perking with surprise when she heard him wheezing. The echo of Molefoot's words rang in her head. You will probably be his last apprentice. When he returned her stare, she offered him a small smile that he did not return. Sedgepaw ducked her head and sighed. If she truly was his legacy, he did not seem thrilled by the notion. Wrinkling her nose, she decided the feeling was mutual.

Molefoot and Ospreypaw were beside each other, staring into the foggy swamp. Sedgepaw stole a glance at the two, listening to the warrior's words of wisdom. She could hear them educating her about the perils of navigating the swamp, and they broke off into a tangent about wrestling with a snapping turtle. Sedgepaw stared at her white paws, squishing her toes into the mud in a pout. She longed for a relationship like that with Batface, one where they could converse without descending into an argument.

"Snakefang and Mothfur will join us soon," Batface mentioned as he approached the shadows of the swamp. "They'll bring the new apprentices to observe you two."

"You both are performing well in your training, so Whitestar thought it best for Lilypaw and Pebblepaw to see you in action."

Raising her chin, Sedgepaw felt her heart swell. This was her chance! She would show Batface how much she learned. With a gleam in her amber eyes, she darted forward. "Let's go then! No time to waste, right, Batface?" Her giddy laughter drowned out his protests as she overran his lead.

"Wait for me, mousebrain!" Ospreypaw called after her.

With her Clanmates' echoing voices behind her, Sedgepaw led the way to the Training Gully. Ivy tangled at her paws, hiding the forgotten fallen leaves that descended from the ancient oak tree branches. Ospreypaw's distant protests bounced off the dense oak trunks and rattled through the birches, but Sedgepaw was deaf to them. The ivy thickened at her paws and the potent aroma of the golden flowers that blossomed from it wafted in the humid air. However, there was another offensive scent that clashed with the bloom. A rank stench of rotting flesh ready to peel from bone was becoming more prominent with each step; Sedgepaw opened her mouth, wondering where the putrid odor could be coming from. Perhaps a coyote abandoned their kill?

No, it was not carrion that harbored this odor. Sedgepaw skidded to a halt, for before her was a skinny brown tomcat with swirling dark stripes and pale green eyes that seemed to glow. "Vinestripe!" Sedgepaw's exclaimation was strangled with fear.

Vinestripe did not reply, instead, he wordlessly stood amongst the carpet of vines and their bright flowers. His eyes seemed to stare through Sedgepaw, looking into the distance expressionlessly. His face was vacant, and he reeked of death. Sedgepaw gingerly stepped closer to him.

"You-you can't be here anymore," she warned. "You're Fallen." Sedgepaw knew what she had to do. It was her duty as a MarshClan cat to chase him off their land. He was no longer welcome here. Unsheathing her claws, she felt her stomach twist into knots like the vines at her paws. "You must go, now." She tried to sound firm, but her heart was racing. The memory of her nightmare was still fresh in her mind.

The Fallen tomcat was plagued by silence. His eyes were clouded over, foggy. Sedgepaw realized he was not even acknowledging her warning. She felt her face burn with embarrassment. He was not threatened by her at all! With bristling fur, she took another step closer, trying to suppress the impulse to gag at the rotten smell coming off of his wet fur… Wait, wet fur? Sedgepaw blinked slowly. Vinestripe's pelt was dark, waterlogged, and she realized droplets of water slid off his whiskers. She pushed back the images of her nightmare. The sight of his body floating down a red river charred her brain of all rationality. Then, she gasped when she saw the scarlet grin on his neck, which shedded rivulets of blood.

"You're hurt! Who did this?" Sedgepaw gasped. She turned her head, wary of her Clanmates finding her with a Fallen. Sedgepaw knew Vinestripe would have to leave before they came, or they would certainly give him more wounds to lick. "Listen," she growled. "You're already bleeding… badly. If I fight you, I'll kill you." Sedgepaw knew Vinestripe was a seasoned warrior, but he looked fatigued and weak. "Get out now, or I'll have no choice."

Vinestripe's wound gushed, and Sedgepaw took a step back in shock. The tomcat opened his mouth to gurgle an inaudible reply, before turning and running off into the woods. Sedgepaw was breathing heavily as the Fallen disappeared into the woods. Beads of red tainted the golden petals, leaving a trail of blood for her to follow. There was no way he could survive his injury. Sedgepaw was frozen, stuck with the choice to remain in the clearing or follow the wounded Fallen.

"Wait!" she hollered after him. Sedgepaw had to make sure he left their territory. It was her responsibility, after all. No, it was more than that. She had to make sure he was okay. How did he acquire such a morbid injury? "Vinestripe!"

A glimpse of his tail slithering around the broad trunk of an oak tree allowed Sedgepaw to keep track of his escape. The dimples of his pawprints into the soft soil were coupled with droplets of blood. The climbing ivy that hugged the oak trees bore red-stained leaves and the scent of death lingered. Sedgepaw felt the burn of panic in her veins, but she did not falter in her chase. She needed answers. Tearing through the tangles of undergrowth, she could feel her long fur snag against the branches. All she cared for, however, was locating the wounded tomcat.

"Vinestripe!" she called out to him again in vain. The only response was the distant cries of sandhill cranes.

Sedgepaw felt her legs burn as her pursuit led her uphill. She weaved through the knees of the cypress trees, which jutted from the soil like jagged teeth. At the crown of the slope, she caught a flicker of Vinestripe's tabby pelt venturing over the edge. Her amber eyes widened in fear at the thought of losing him. Unable to muster the breath to cry out to him, Sedgepaw's uneven gulps of breath were drowned out by the racket of a loud splash.

"No!" she screeched.

Sedgepaw burst onto the crest of the hill, which overlooked the river that ran its course through her territory. Its current was unforgiving against the stones that sat in its depths; fiercely, it splashed into rageful rapids that threatened to swallow anything unlucky enough to hit its surface. Sedgepaw's eyes glanced desperately across the rabid water, which frothed white in its fervent run. The ripple of Vinestripe's collapse vanished just before the rocks greeted the river. His body did not resurface.

"Vinestripe!" Sedgepaw yowled above the river's roar.

Bowing her head, she felt the pressure of her nightmare collapse on her shoulders. It replayed in her head over, and over, and over again. The shiver in her paws was minute, but it conveyed her inner feelings of helplessness. She could not save him in the trial, she could not save him now. _No wonder Batface hates me… I can't do anything right._

It was the feeling of being watched that pulled Sedgepaw out of the cloud of remorse that hovered over her. Jerking her head up, she noticed a cat on the other side of the riverbank. It was a cat she did not recognize with eyes so pale green they seemed unreal and a pelt of muddy brown. Sedgepaw narrowed her eyes, stepping towards the edge of the hill where it dropped into a sheer cliff, wanting a closer look at this strange cat. She could not pick up a scent that identified the onlooker, all she could taste was the sharpness of mint and freshwater. The cat blinked slowly up at her, but Sedgepaw could only focus on the mess of scars criss-crossing across their shoulders. This cat went through an awful fight, but lived.

The cat spoke to her from across the river, but their voice failed to carry up over the rapids to her. Sedgepaw could only read their lips, which articulated the message flawlessly: "There are bodies in this water."


	5. Child's Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Child's play** , _idiom_   
> Something easily done, a trivial matter... (how ironic).

CAUGHT, in the mayhem of war between dreams and reality, Sedgepaw struggled to comprehend her surroundings, specifically the cat below. The pale brown tabby with mangled shoulders and pastel green eyes returned Sedgepaw's stare, but, unlike hers, their eyes were void of confusion. In fact, there was an eerie clarity to their gaze; it was as if they knew everything with a glance. Sedgepaw's skin crawled beneath her fur. She doubted her sanity now, for no earthly cat could perceive the world with such arcane eyes. Across the effervescent rapids that separated them, they continued to stare at Sedgepaw in silence, but the words they spoke continued to echo in her head: "There are bodies in this water."

Bodies, perhaps dozens if Sedgepaw's nightmare was a vision in disguise, littered the unforgiving depths of the river. She was beginning to suspect Vinestripe was among them. However, she came up blank when trying to put a face to the murders. Segdepaw inched towards the hill's edge, where it dropped into a cliff framed by roots that jutted out of its face, which stretched towards the misty surface of the river, thirsting for freshwater. A forewarning pebble took a dive from the hill's lip, plummeting towards the river that swallowed it without a qualm. Sedgepaw inched back then, heeding the pebble's sacrifice. She was desperate for answers, and she believed the mysterious cat below had them, but a descent from this point would mean her demise. Her plume-like tail lashed with frustration.

"Who are you?" she yowled from the hilltop.

There was no response, which prompted a hiss from her throat. The cat slowly backed away from the shore, their eyes not moving though they bowed their chin, as if bidding farewell. Sedgepaw physically reacted to their slow retreat, nearly scrambling over the hill's drop in her haste.

"No, wait!" she cried.

They vanished into the ferns, leaving Sedgepaw pacing at the edge, her white paws itching to give chase. Her amber eyes darted frantically about the shoreline, trying to pluck that light brown pelt from the masses of ferns and reeds to no avail.

"Sedgepaw!" It was Ospreypaw's voice that brought Sedgepaw back to reality; she called to her while ascending the hilltop, and when she appeared Sedgepaw thought she spotted a hint of worry on her face. Instead, the black and white apprentice was staring at her questioningly, and her aggravation was apparent when she spoke again. "You mousebrain, we were looking all over for you!"

Gazing at her friend, Sedgepaw knew her irritation masked her worry. She smiled and shrugged her broad shoulders in defeat. "Well, you found me." She hid her bewilderment with a wry grin. "Took you long enough too. You're definitely not a tracker, Ospreypaw."

"Very funny." Ospreypaw narrowed her eyes, and Sedgepaw knew she failed to evade her friend's intuition. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Oh, please, save that spiritual mumbo-jumbo for Redleaf." Sedgepaw laughed. However, she was beginning to surmise the possibility of witnessing a manifest spirit. The spirit of Vinestripe.

"Come on, you, Batface and Molefoot are downhill waiting." Ospreypaw turned back towards the forest, flicking her long tail. "The new apprentices and their mentors are there too."

Sedgepaw groaned inwardly. After being in the wake of madness, she forgot all about her audience for the day's training. Between her long night and the unexpected appearance of Vinestripe and the cat across the river, she could feel her body's strength wane. The first time she was to test her skills before younger apprentices, and she was not even on top of her game! Sedgepaw gritted her teeth angrily. StarClan had a rotten sense of humor; it was as if her ancestors mapped out her embarrassment on purpose.

Following Ospreypaw down the hill, she returned to the ravine where the jutting knees of cypress trees ruled. The jagged, erect roots staggered throughout the mud, and in-between them were Batface, Molefoot, Snakefang, Mothfur, Lilypaw, and Pebblepaw. Sedgepaw gulped when she realized all their eyes were on her.

"I'm ready," she announced, keeping her chin high. Even with all the attention being honed in on her, Sedgepaw refused to cower. She would prove herself to them, Batface especially.

"I'd hope so," Batface retorted, "You've already wasted enough time with your little stroll." Spittle rained from his lips as he emphasized every word with unbridled annoyance.

Sedgepaw curled her lip, struggling to tame her desire to snap back at her disapproving mentor. "I was stretching my legs," she explained mildly.

Molefoot had interrupted the argument before it started with their jovial tone. "Okay! Today, Ospreypaw and Sedgepaw will demonstrate their skills of agility, strength, and climbing capability."

Trying to sustain her satisfaction when Molefoot stole Batface's opportunity to scold her, Sedgepaw gave the other warrior a broad smile and nodded excitedly. "I got this!" she affirmed.

Ospreypaw snaked around to sit beside her, a challenge twinkling in her golden eyes. "So you say."

Batface spoke up again, his tongue reluctantly adopting a cordial tone. "We will begin with agility then. At the foot of the cypress, where the knees are not present, will be your starting point," he began, his short tail flicking sideways at the tall cypress nearby. "You both will race through the knees and roots of the trees to the best of your ability, finishing at the end where the oakbridge overpasses the ravine."

Sedgepaw glanced from one end to the other, feeling her belly churn uneasily. Agility was never effortless for her; she preferred to charge full-speed ahead, not swivel through obstacles with grace like some lanky heron. She wrinkled her nose and shuffled her paws grudgingly, feeling the excitement radiating off Ospreypaw. Her friend was noticeably slimmer than she was, with the long legs to boot. Defeating her would be a challenge.

Across from where she sat, Snakefang and Mothfur were murmuring to each other. Sedgepaw wondered what they could be exchanging. She wondered if they doubted her. Unease caused her pelt to prickle, for the judgmental glare of Snakefang was fixated on her now. Mothfur was stoic in contrast; he did not seem to regard Sedgepaw or Ospreypaw with any favor. Still, his soft murmurs coaxed self-consciousness out of Sedgepaw, which she struggled to smother.

Ospreypaw led the way towards the cypress that marked the start of their first test. Sedgepaw followed with determination coloring her face. She walked before Lilypaw and Pebblepaw with pride, carrying herself in a manner that allowed every muscle in her limbs to ripple. She wanted to intimidate the new apprentices and impress the mentors, refusing to let her insecurities swarm her mind.

Inhaling deeply, Sedgepaw gazed across the ravine. She stood beside Ospreypaw with tense muscles, her amber eyes gleaming with a storm of resolution and apprehension. Her heart was beating erratically. It felt like a woodpecker was stuck in her ribcage, hammering its beak against it in an attempt to be set free. Shaleheart and Batface joined the others on the flank of the ravine, where they could observe without getting trampled. Sedgepaw stole a glance at Ospreypaw before the race began, and she felt anger rise from her belly when she saw the smug look of confidence etching her narrow face. She looks as if she thinks she already won!

"Steady," Molefoot called, preparing the apprentices for their go. Time moved at a snail's pace. "And… Start!"

Sedgepaw bolted off from the shadow of the cypress. She unsheathed her claws, wanting to grip the soft ground with more certainty. Clods of mud churned up from under her paws, scattering backward to splatter against her tail. She knew if she got a strong start, she might win. Quickly, the spikes of roots greeted her. Sedgepaw hissed, skidding to the side to avoid colliding with one head-on. Her evasive maneuver was unpolished, and her broad shoulder kissed the knee painfully. Wincing, Sedgepaw spotted the flash of black-and-white fur coasting through the teeth-like growths with ease. No! She's going to get ahead of me! Sedgepaw scrambled onward, dodging through the knees madly, her shoulders and hindquarters taking a beating in the process.

"Dammit," she growled. Sedgepaw could feel her claws burn. With every erratic step, she threatened to tear them.

Ahead, Ospreypaw slithered through the spiked roots with a gait so fluid streams would be jealous. Sedgepaw gritted her teeth and charged forward faster, longing to catch up. The tendons in her limbs screamed in protest. The knees became more numerous as Sedgepaw carried on, to her dismay. Slipping awkwardly sideways, she struggled to avoid a protruding root that appeared unexpectedly. Her totter was not over, for she had to jump abruptly to avoid a shorter knee in her path. Nearly stumbling, Sedgepaw dove between two more knees with wide eyes. It was like they became teeth that hungered to impede her in her stampede. Not keen on being skewered, Sedgepaw slowed her pace and snaked between the knees with more ease. She sacrificed her speed grudgingly, but finished with a fraction of grace. Sedgepaw already knew she lost, but at least she completed the test.

Oakbridge welcomed her with shade, and Sedgepaw collapsed into it. Her eyes screwed up to see Ospreypaw sitting patiently, grooming her long forearm with practiced pride.

"Looks like I win this one," she observed nonchalantly.

Sedgepaw knew she was riveted by her victory, and she would have preferred Ospreypaw act so. Feigning modesty was somehow more frustrating to Sedgepaw than gloating.

Ospreypaw made a huffing noise. "Don't act so melancholy." Her black tail-tip brushed against Sedgepaw's nose. "You can't win everything."

"Easy for you to say," Sedgepaw snapped, still struggling to catch her breath. "You're the winner."

Ospreypaw rolled her eyes, but before she could reply, their mentors approached. Molefoot was beaming, of course, and they looked ready to parade their apprentice with praise. Sedgepaw sat up slowly, not surprised by the look of disappointment on her mentor's face. Shadowing them were Snakefang and Mothfur, and they both were murmuring between each other again. Bringing up the rear were the young apprentices, and Sedgepaw noticed Lilypaw was looking more enthusiastic than ever.

"That was incredible!" Her mew exploded from her mouth, causing Pebblepaw to jump beside her. She danced up to Ospreypaw on her dainty white toes. "You're so fast, like, like nothing I've ever seen before. I'm going to be just like you!"

Ospreypaw nodded, unappreciative of Lilypaw's excitement. Her ears were flat, just like her expression. "Everyone has their own skills. Our skills are what make us unique."

Lilypaw was undeterred by Ospreypaw's deadpan tone. "Well, I hope I'm not skilled in falling like Sedgepaw. Then they may call me Lilyfall!" She snickered, clearly impressed by her own joke.

Sedgepaw curled her lip and cuffed the apprentice's ear with her paw. "How about Lilythorn, then?" she hissed. "You sure are skilled at being a thorn in my side."

Lilypaw made a grumble of protest, backing away from them with a look of disdain, and Pebblepaw crawled behind her. His big blue eyes gazed up at Sedgepaw fearfully, and she smirked. With a lunge, she pretended to pounce on them, only to land a whisker's length away from them to give a roar. Sedgepaw gave a snort when both apprentices ran to their mentors' sides. That's what I thought. Ignoring Snakefang's glare, Sedgepaw faced Batface and Molefoot, awaiting their instruction.

Ospreypaw nudged her side. "Nice job terrorizing the pests," she whispered with a smirk.

"I'll be terrorizing you next," Sedgepaw promised, returning the smirk.

Batface cleared his throat, an indication that his patience was waning. Sedgepaw fell silent, allowing her mentor to speak while avoiding his bright amber glare. She longed for him to look at her the same way Molefoot looked at Ospreypaw.

"Next, a test of strength," Batface announced. He glanced between Ospreypaw and Sedgepaw with scrutiny. "The apprentices will duel one another in a mock fight, and the winner is the one that can pin the other down."

"Keep your claws sheathed!" Molefoot warned, and Sedgepaw shrugged when they fixed her with a pointed stare. "And do not break the other's skin, or the duel is over."

Sedgepaw entered the shadow of Oakbridge, which passed over the ravine to connect with the hill that stood before the river. It had fallen long ago, reduced to nothing but a log that allowed the cats to cross without having to scale the hills. Now, it shaded the battlefield, keeping the earth beneath moist and soft to cushion the blow of tussling apprentices. Squaring her shoulders, she sized up Ospreypaw as she took her place across from her.

Her opponent was lean with a build that promised speed and agility. The sharpness in Ospreypaw's yellow eyes made Sedgepaw wary, for she knew her friend was equipped with intelligence as well. Rolling her shoulders, she tensed her muscles in preparation. Ospreypaw's long tail lashed fiercely, but she did not speak. She was standing before Sedgepaw with a cold look of concentration on her narrow face.

Sedgepaw's amber eyes gleamed. She wanted to get a rise out of Ospreypaw. "I'm not going to take it easy on you!" she warned.

Her opponent merely shook her head in response, which prompted Sedgepaw to growl. Ospreypaw did not seem the least bit intimidated by her. Her friend's silent self-assuredness only fueled Sedgepaw's will to win.

"And begin!" Molefoot ordered.

To Sedgepaw's surprise, Ospreypaw made the first move. In a flash, the apprentice disappeared, darting to Sedgepaw's side with enough speed to rival a lightning bolt. Ospreypaw struck her shoulder with the same quick motion, bringing her paw down with enough force to sting. Sedgepaw winced but was able to react in defense before Ospreypaw went for another swipe at her head. Ducking, she heard with the whistle of Ospreypaw's blow narrowly miss her ear, and Sedgepaw snarled when she headbutted her opponent in the chest.

Fallen leaves rose again when Ospreypaw was bowled over onto the ground. Sedgepaw did not allow her time to recuperate. She lunged, forearms extended, and prepared to pin her down. Ospreypaw was too keen, however, and rolled so that Sedgepaw smashed her paws down on the ground where her shoulders used to be. Then she felt the sting of Ospreypaw's rear paws kicking at her side, rattling against her ribs. Batface's words echoed in her mind. You're still a thoughtless, impulsive opponent.

Sedgepaw sprung backward, recalculating her next move. Ospreypaw got to her paws again, and the two apprentices became locked in a circling motion. Each watched the other pensively, evaluating their opponent and predicting their next attack. Ospreypaw was smart; Sedgepaw realized she would have to be smarter if she was to win. She could not withstand the idea of losing again. Though her mind was foggy with fatigue and the gore of Vinestripe's appearance haunted her, Sedgepaw could still feel the fire of determination searing her veins.

With a hiss, Ospreypaw snaked towards her in a swerving motion, which made her position hard to pinpoint. However, Sedgepaw noticed Ospreypaw's eyes flicker briefly to her legs, and she jumped before the apprentice could slither beneath her. Landing behind Ospreypaw, Sedgepaw spun and clobbered the back of her head with her massive white paw. She could hear Ospreypaw's grunt, and Sedgepaw assumed the apprentice was stunned. Growling, she pounced on Ospreypaw's back, knowing her weight would pan out favorably against the slimmer she-cat, and began to rake her hind paws against Ospreypaw's hindquarters.

Feeling Ospreypaw struggle, Sedgepaw clung to her shoulders as best as she could with sheathed claws. Suddenly, Ospreypaw writhed, arching her narrow back to slip from Sedgepaw's white toes. Ospreypaw, once freed, spun around to swipe at Sedgepaw's muzzle. She snapped her neck back to jerk away from the strike, and she felt Ospreypaw graze her whiskers. However, she failed to dodge the next blow and felt the smack of her paw against her face. If Ospreypaw unsheathed her claws, Sedgepaw knew the wound would have cut deep. Giving a hiss, she reared up on her hind legs and crashed down towards Ospreypaw, knocking her across the shaded clearing. Mud stained her black and white fur, and Sedgepaw noticed the burning ferocity in her friend's eyes. She was not surrendering easy, and Sedgepaw began to worry she would not have the energy to endure the battle much longer.

Stealing a glance at her mentor, she saw a peculiar gleam in Batface's orange eyes. Struggling to decipher his expression, she almost lost her opportunity to react to Ospreypaw's offensive move. The apprentice faked her out, for her eyes were locked on the side of Sedgepaw, but she landed her blow on the opposite side. Falling victim to Ospreypaw's cleverness, Sedgepaw felt her opponent's paw rake down her side. Baring her fangs, Sedgepaw knew she would have to react before Ospreypaw gained the advantage. She could not afford to lose. With Ospreypaw circling to attack again, Sedgepaw decided the best option for victory was to cripple Ospreypaw's boon: her swiftness. Once more, Ospreypaw surged forward with viper-like reflexes, but this time, Sedgepaw was ready. She invested too much energy on using her strength alone; now her attack would have a purpose. In a sweeping motion, Sedgepaw lowered her body and lunged forth, her large paw did not aim for Ospreypaw's face or chest or shoulders, the typical targets, this time, she struck at Ospreypaw's willowy limbs.

Angry shrieking from Ospreypaw startled the nearby crows, and there was a muffled clapping noise when Sedgepaw's strike collided with her legs. Swept off her feet, Ospreypaw hit the ground chin-first with a loud thud. Then, Sedgepaw wasted no time in pinning her there. Ospreypaw gave a grunt, but with her legs twisted beneath her, she could not escape.

"That's it!" Batface shouted. He stood and approached the dueling apprentices with a stern expression. "The spar is over. Sedgepaw's the winner."

Sedgepaw raised her chin and smiled at her mentor. To her delight, Batface cracked a small grin. It did not look forced, and it was not overtly obvious, but it was enough for Sedgepaw. She won, she made him smile. "Fantastic!" she crowed.

Ospreypaw gave a hiss. "Okay, you've won. You can get off me now."

Sedgepaw ducked her head apologetically. "Oh, sorry, Ospreypaw." She released her friend from her grip, smiling still.

"Of course." Ospreypaw rose to her legs shakily, rolling her eyes. She shivered off the leaves and mud that collected on her pelt during the fight.

Molefoot approached to shoulder Batface. "Well done both of you!" His yellow eyes gleamed, and Sedgepaw nearly laughed at the starkly different reaction he had compared to Batface. "You performed spectacularly in your own way. You both will make fine warriors one day."

Batface gave a small nod then but said nothing more. However, Sedgepaw still felt his gaze on her, and she felt her heart swell.

Lilypaw and Pebblepaw bounded up to them with their mentors. Lilypaw looked fascinated, while Pebblepaw appeared scared out of his wits. The dappled gray apprentice blinked his big blue eyes slowly. "Will… We all have to fight like that one day?" he asked in a trembling whisper.

Snakefang replied with assurance. "All of us will fight one day. Our territory is full of danger."

Sedgepaw detected the faint scent of fear was rolling off Pebblepaw. Her amber eyes softened as she looked at him, but she refused to offer consolation for Snakefang's foreboding reply. It was true, after all. MarshClan was surrounded by enemies, and so she trained with the will to fight them all one day.

Snakefang continued, glaring at his apprentice with scrutiny. "There are beasts in the water, woods, and sky, Pebblepaw," he explained impatiently. "They prey on the weak, so MarshClan trains you to be strong."

Nodding, Sedgepaw could put names to every beast in the water and wood and sky that would do harm to a MarshClan cat. The murky water concealed alligators and pythons, and the woods harbored foxes and coyotes, and the sky was ruled by fierce hawks.

When Mothfur interjected, Sedgepaw was surprised by the calmness in his voice. "There is safety in the Clan, however. So long as you provide for the Clan, it will protect you. And so will StarClan."

Pebblepaw nodded slowly, but he did not look convinced. His little tail curled around his paws, hiding the slight tremor in his toes. "MarshClan has many enemies," he realized.

Snakefang snorted, shaking his head. "Even our own kind can be our enemy." With graveness in his tone, he explained, "There are others like us that choose not to live by Clan ideals. The Fallen. Banished from our land of plenty, they pillage our territory of prey, and if we do not learn to fight, they can easily infiltrate our camp and raid us of our kits and herbs."

Pebblepaw's eyes widened. "Aren't they Clan cats though?"

"It doesn't matter. They chose a life of struggle outside the grace of StarClan," Batface added, his gravelly voice just above a whisper. "They are not Clan cats anymore."

Sedgepaw exchanged a glance with Ospreypaw and nodded. They were both ready to fight off any Fallen that stepped foot on their land. Fallen were not favored by StarClan as she was, they were thieves and barbarians. Still, Sedgepaw struggled to liken the fierce Fallen to someone like Vinestripe. Her gentle, composed Clanmate would never stoop to stealing or raiding nurseries like the Fallen were said to do.

The silence that followed was uncomfortable for Sedgepaw. She glanced around at the faces of their Clanmates, seeing resignation on each of them. Bowing her head, she struggled to stomach the fate of the Fallen once more. How could anyone betray their Clan?

Molefoot piped up to break the silence. "How about we continue training?"

Ospreypaw nodded. "Climbing is next, right?"

Batface meowed,"Yes, and you will be scaling the Great Cypress with Sedgepaw." He inclined his head towards the cypress they had run from before. Now, they would be tasked with climbing the titanic trunk. "The apprentice that reaches the highest branch is the victor."

"Don't climb too high, though!" Molefoot added. "The Great Cypress is the largest tree in the swamp. If you go too high, and fall too far... you'll get acquainted with StarClan real quick."

"No worries," Snakefang hissed, a snicker slipping off his tongue. "Marshstar is here to watch over you!"

"Not that old nursery tale," Batface grunted, unamused.

Sedgepaw shook her head. The tale of MarshClan's founder giving his last life to the Great Cypress was famous in the nursery; hearing of it again made the whole story seem silly. Tch, Marshstar living on in a tree... rubbish. Weaving through the cypress knees with the group of MarshClan cats, Sedgepaw stared at the soft ground. She could feel her limbs grow heavy with fatigue. Though the freckles of sunlight that dappled the training ravine made an effort to warm her fur, she felt cold and worn. This last challenge would bring an end to her day, at least. Sedgepaw raised her chin and decided she could power through this next task seamlessly. All she would need is confidence and an insane amount of luck.

"You're not tired, are you?" Lilypaw chirped from behind. There was a taunting edge to her tone.

Sedgepaw glanced back and scoffed, "Of course not!" She felt like the new apprentice was purposefully crawling under her fur to rub her skin the wrong way. "A warrior never quits."

Batface chimed in. "Actually, a real warrior knows their limits." Though he was firm, his chiding had a lighter tone to it. He walked before them with Mothfur by his side, but the other warrior remained silent. "Warriors must learn to rely on one another. Our strength alone is not enough; we need to depend on one another to survive."

The idea of depending on someone else made Sedgepaw wrinkle her nose. She was the strongest of her littermates, the strongest of the all the apprentices, so her strength alone could help her in any battle. She narrowed her eyes at Batface and smiled. "Anyone can win a fight if they have help, but I can win my fights alone."

There was a glimmer of something in Batface's eyes. Was it disappointment? Anger? His only response was a sigh, which ended with him turning away. He did not speak again after that.

Lilypaw, however, failed to shut her mouth. "All this talk about fighting! Is that all you're good at?" She sniffed proudly. "One day, I will be good at everything! Dewpelt said so."

"Of course she did," Sedgepaw muttered. Dewpelt believed her kits could surpass anyone. It was no wonder Spiderfang was convinced they could start training early; Dewpelt did nothing but talk them up. Sedgepaw recalled the deputy constantly looming about the nursery, murmuring words of praise to her kits. Sedgepaw glared at the uppity apprentice that kept pace by her side. "You're pretty good at being a nuisance."

Lilypaw returned her glare. "You're just worried that I'll be better than you!" she retorted, sounding indignant.

Giving a laugh, Sedgepaw shook her head. "Pipe down, rookie. You've got a long ways to go before you're even close to being better than me."

"Enough squabbling," Mothfur murmured. He lashed his feathery, golden brown tail with practiced containment of his annoyance. "Instead of competing to be the best, you should be learning from one another."

"Then why even have these challenges in the first place?" Sedgepaw rebuked. "Aren't they a competition to see which of us is best?"

Mothfur merely shook his head and continued in silence. Ahead, she could see Batface's ears twitching. Sedgepaw gritted her teeth, hoping she did not embarrass her mentor by snapping at a seasoned warrior like Mothfur. Jerking her head away from Lilypaw's glare, she noticed Ospreypaw carrying on with Pebblepaw peacefully. Judging by the twinkle in Pebblepaw's blue eyes, Sedgepaw assumed her friend must have been encouraging the meek apprentice. Snakefang, walking a pace before them, did not seem too pleased by Ospreypaw's words, however, for his tail was lashing and his ears were flat. Sedgepaw wondered why Snakefang even had an apprentice; the warrior always acted like he had a furball stuck in his throat, and he was a fairly new warrior to boot. What did he have to be mad about being as young as he was?

"Okay!" Molefoot chirped. "Let's get our last challenge done, then!"

Ospreypaw bounded up to them first, and Sedgepaw approached afterward. She could feel her legs groaning when she tilted her head back to peer up at the canopy of the cypress. The tree was so tall, and she nearly fell backward trying to look up at it. Reigning in her worry, Sedgepaw rolled her shoulders in preparation.

Suddenly, she could feel Batface's stout muzzle against her ear. Sedgepaw stiffened, eyes wide, as he whispered, "Take it easy during this test. I can tell your strength is waning."

Feeling her fur bristle, Sedgepaw struggled to sustain her retort. Batface doubted her! Her amber eyes flashed with determination. She would show him… Ospreypaw would lose to her again. She would climb this tree until she reached the clouds. Shrugging away from him, Sedgepaw placed her paw on the outstretched root of the cypress, breathing in deeply.

Ospreypaw stood beside her, gazing upwards. "I wonder how high these branches reach?" she mused.

"I'm going to find out," Sedgepaw smiled with confidence, knowing it will take every ounce of energy left in her to scale this massive trunk.

"Good luck, then." Ospreypaw smiled, wiggling her haunches as she readied to spring.

"Begin!" Molefoot cried.

Ospreypaw beat Sedgepaw in her leap, and she was showered with flakes of tree bark as her friend scrambled upwards. Sedgepaw jumped after her onto the tree's trunk, her shoulders burning as her body already struggled to endure the steep incline. Releasing a shaky sigh, she gripped her unsheathed claws into the ancient bark, scaling it slowly. Shreds of cypress fell in spirals as she climbed, and Sedgepaw refused to watch their descent for fear of following suit. She could see Ospreypaw's long legs scaling up the tree slowly and grunted as she struggled to catch up. The distance between her and the ground broadened with every reach, but Sedgepaw was nowhere near the first branch. Swaying moss draped down from the first branches of the old cypress tree, waving at Sedgepaw during her ascent.

"Careful, Ospreypaw!" Pebblepaw squeaked from below.

Sedgepaw noticed her friend was shivering against the tree, and she saw the yellow gleam of Ospreypaw's eyes as she stared below. Ospreypaw looked frightened as she fixed her gaze on the roots at the foot of the tree. Sedgepaw took a break from her competitive climb, for Ospreypaw was frozen against the tree, clinging to it tighter than the green moss that cushioned the bark. Sedgepaw ignored the burning in her legs as she stared across at Ospreypaw, panting softly as she reached her.

"Ospreypaw, come on, we're almost done." Sedgepaw brushed her thick tail against hers, which was trembling. "Let's just get to the first branch and head down."

Ospreypaw nodded slowly, wordlessly, and resumed her climb. Sedgepaw smiled and joined her. They climbed side-by-side, and Sedgepaw realized this was what Batface and Mothfur meant; the comradery of helping one another and overcoming a challenge together with her Clanmate made the obstacles less intimidating. Once the two apprentices reached the lanky arms of the cypress, Sedgepaw giggled when Ospreypaw hustled onto the branch with wide eyes. She stood at the broad base of it, where the moss collected to dangle, and wrapped her black tail around her shivering paws.

"You did it!" Sedgepaw cheered, still clinging to the tree trunk.

"I did… I made it," Ospreypaw muttered in disbelief. "Thank you, Sedgepaw."

Smiling, Sedgepaw nodded to her friend. However, instead of remaining with her on the first branch, she continued her ascent. She could hear Ospreypaw's gasp of surprise when Sedgepaw resumed her climb. The number of outstretched branches grew as she rose, shading Sedgepaw from the sun as she neared the sky.

"Sedgepaw, wait! That's too high! You're going to high!" Ospreypaw yowled after her.

"Don't worry about me, Ospreypaw! I'm not scared." Sedgepaw was reenergized by seeing her friend overcome her fear, and she was able to abandon her fears as well. Her body was tired, but her determination did not dwindle. Instead of petering out at the first branch, Sedgepaw decided to could go on and on until she reached the clouds. "Go ahead down!" she called to Ospreypaw. "Tell Batface I'll be the one to touch the sky!"

"Sedgepaw, no!" Ospreypaw protested.

Sedgepaw ignored the cries of her friend, which were followed by the protests of her Clanmates. They all stared up at her in disbelief and admiration, but Sedgepaw did not stop to bask in their stares, she pulled herself upward. She could feel the ripple of her muscles as they worked and the thunderous beat of her heart as the breeze whistling through the treetops caught her long, mottled brown fur. Sedgepaw's tail ruffled in the wind with the moss, and her claws snagged a narrow branch. She was high enough to be surrounded by the thinnest, newest branches that grew out of the towering cypress. When she climbed onto the highest branch, Sedgepaw was rewarded with a view of MarshClan's territory. The swamp and pine forest neighbored each other, and the silhouettes of flying snowy egrets mirrored the fluffy white clouds that floated across the pale blue sky. She gasped in awe when she saw the lake where camp was located, for the sun was captured in its center, glittering in the rippling reflection.

"The view is amazing up here!" she told them.

The only response was from Batface, but the howling wind that rummaged through the treetops drowned out his words. Sedgepaw sighed, feeling the wind in her fur. Her eyes grazed the skyline, and she drank in the sight of the river winding through the pine forest. It ventured parallel to the horizon, where the sun rose, and Sedgepaw wondered what roamed beyond the river boundary. It was there where the Fallen supposedly lived in permanent exile, ostracized from MarshClan's territory. She could see the pine forest thin out into a dense field spotted with large oak trees and birch trees, and she could not help but imagine the many cats living out there, forgotten. Perhaps the strange cat from before was among them?

Another yowl from Batface prompted Sedgepaw to gaze down from the branch she rested on. With a sigh, she realized she could not remain on her perch forever. It was time to return to her Clanmates. Her white toes kneaded the tree bark as she warmed up for her descent. However, movement in her periphery caught her attention. Below, on the riverbank, the ferns were rustling. Sedgepaw turned her head to decipher what could be making such a ruckus. Suddenly, a cat emerged from the reeds on her side of the river. It was the same pale brown tabby from before, but this time, they were on MarshClan territory. Sedgepaw stiffened, for those bright green eyes were locked onto her once more. Trespasser!

"You-!" Sedgepaw cried out to the cat, but a tremor from the branch strangled her words. The thin arm did not tolerate her jerking reaction to the intruder well, and the entire branch shifted with a groan. The droopy leaves of the cypress hissed menacingly, and Sedgepaw clung to the branch for dear life. "StarClan, help me!"

The cat watched her struggle, silently staring as she yowled in terror. Sedgepaw had glanced at the mysterious tabby before the branch gave way. The last image in her head was the cryptic tabby's face, with the penetrating, pale green eyes, before she was greeted by the sound of a crash, followed by darkness, then pain.


	6. The Covenant of Works

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Covenant theology asserts that when God created Adam and Eve he promised them eternal life in return for perfect obedience; this promise was termed the "covenant of works." After the fall of man, human nature was corrupted by original sin and unable to fulfill the covenant of works, since each person inevitably violated God's law as expressed in the Ten Commandments. As sinners, every person deserved damnation.

MUFFLED murmurs caused Sedgepaw to stir. As she rustled, she could feel a sharp pang against her side, which resulted in her bolting upward in surprise. Her rapid movement only caused the pain to become more severe in her side, and she let out a sharp gasp as it gripped her lungs and restricted her breathing to pained gulps. The dark den around her was blurry, and her amber eyes darted around in dazed panic. _Where am I? What happened?_

"Easy does it, Sedgepaw," a deep voice rasped beside her. The sharp scent of herbs and marigold wafted around her, and Sedgepaw recognized the voice as Redleaf's. She was in the medicine den, his den.

Glancing to her side, she slowly focused on his stocky frame. She was familiar with his deep, golden eyes and thick, dark ginger fur, and his look of concern made her stiffen. Why am I here? She felt short of breath, for every inhale stabbed into her chest in an attempt to impale her weak lungs. Sedgepaw struggled not to panic as she felt a dull ache in her head grow more apparent while her vision sluggishly cleared. She tried to stand, wanting to get some answers fervently, but Redleaf's big paw pressed softly against her shoulder. His golden eyes glowed with sympathy, and Sedgepaw's stomach lurched. Why is he looking at me like that?

"You need to settle down," Redleaf advised. "You're still recovering."

"Recovering from what?" she rasped, breathing shakily.

Redleaf smiled ruefully as Sedgepaw settled back into her mossy nest. "You took a nasty fall from the Great Cypress. You've been unconscious for almost a day now." His explanation did not comfort her in the slightest; in fact, Sedgepaw was more alarmed because she could not remember a damn thing. "You'll recover without difficulty," Redleaf promised, "but you need to relax."

Sedgepaw's eyes darted around the medicine den nervously. The strong aroma of marigold surrounded her, sickly sweet, meant to mask the stench of blood and sickness from the patients of the past. The bur marigold stems hugged one another, creating a fortress of green stalks and yellow blossoms. Above, the den was sheltered by a thick roof of soft-stem bulrush; they overhung from within the margold, shading the den and reinforcing the sweetness in the air with a thick collection of orange flowers at their tips. Sedgepaw curled her white toes anxiously. She found no solace in the flowery walls and friendly face of Redleaf..

Redleaf must have sensed her apprehension, for he caressed her rigid spine with his short, fluffy tail. "Calm down, Sedgepaw," he soothed.

"I-I don't remember what happened." Her mind was blank.

"That's common for an injury like yours." Redleaf stood and walked slowly towards an old leaf sheath that a palm tree must have shed moons ago; it was forked like a rattlesnake's tongue, and the russet edges of it were frayed into thin, intertwining hairs. The thick, wooden peticle cradled various piles of herbs that Sedgepaw did not recognize. "You could have been much worse off, but your fall only resulted in bruised ribs and a mild concussion."

"Only? That sounds pretty dangerous to me." Sedgepaw did not even know what a concussion was, let alone what it meant, or how long it would take to heal. The buzz of questions in her head made it pound, and she flattened her ears as she struggled to withstand the pain.

Redleaf nodded, dexterously pawing through the collection of herbs that rested on the old leaf base. His eyes were pensive and narrow as he studied each medicinal plant intensely. "Not to worry, Sedgepaw. I'll have you on your paws in a few days."

"Days?!" Sedgepaw exclaimed, ignoring the pain in her side when she shouted. "I can't! I will be set back in my training."

"You'll do whatever it takes to recover." Batface's voice sounded outside the den, where the sunlight was oddly dim and fog stalked the entrance.

Redleaf's ears perked when he heard Batface's response, and an amused smile crossed his face. "Are you still pacing out there?"

Sedgepaw narrowed her eyes, unable to see her mentor's dusky black pelt within the fog outside. He was pacing? Sedgepaw wondered if her mentor was pacing with worry or frustration. The latter seemed most likely. She ducked her head sadly. He was probably disappointed in her for losing training time in recovery. Falling sounded like a silly way to hurt herself, Batface must have been livid with her stupidity.

Her mentor hesitated before replying again. "N-no, of course not! I don't have time to waste loitering outside your den; I was merely stopping by to check on my apprentice," he explained in a rush.

Sedgepaw smiled at his frazzled tone; he was probably spitting in his haste to explain himself. Even if he was upset with her, she found comfort in his voice. When he appeared, the senior warrior glanced at her, and Sedgepaw thought she saw a glimmer of relief in his expression. He turned towards Redleaf before she could decide whether or not she was imagining it.

Redleaf did not sound convinced. "Sure, sure, that would make the most sense." He did not flinch when Batface stalked towards him with a grumble. "Temper yourself, Batface," Redleaf warned. "You'll disturb your precious apprentice's recovery."

Sedgepaw noticed Batface's stocky shoulders stiffen. She doubted she was his "precious apprentice," but the idea made her giggle. When she laughed, her mentor turned to her with a stern look on his broad face. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Sedgepaw squeaked, trying to hold back another laugh when Redleaf chuckled too.

"Can't a mentor check on his apprentice without being harassed?" Batface protested.

Redleaf pressed his nose to Batface's scarred cheek and smiled. "She's just as healthy as she was when you checked on her last," he assured the frazzled warrior.

Perking her ears, Sedgepaw wondered when Batface last saw her. How frequently did he visit while she was unconscious? Her amber eyes grew wide with the notion that her mentor may not be angry with her at all, but honestly worried. She felt warmth blossom in her chest at the possibility.

"Well, she wasn't awake when I saw her last," Batface countered. "So I venture to say she's healthier."

"I feel fine!" Sedgepaw agreed, though the den around her blurred when she stood. "I should be able to go out and train now. Thanks for your help, Redleaf." As she took a step out of her mossy nest, however, the world around her seemed to shift and slant; her confused, unsteady paws betrayed her mid-step and she stumbled like a newborn fawn.

"You aren't going anywhere." Batface was by her side in a heartbeat, helping her to her paws with a nudge. The rasp in his voice was smoother as he let her balance on his side. "Once you are fully recovered, we can train as normal."

Sedgepaw rolled into her nest with a grumble. She rested her chin on her paws and drew out a sigh, accepting the reality of her imprisonment. As her mentor said, she would not be able to leave for training without a complete recovery. Days… Days wasted. Sedgepaw wanted to screech her frustration to StarClan, but the tightness in her lungs kept her silent.

Redleaf hovered over her, rasping his tongue across her ear reassuringly. "We are only doing what's best for you, Sedgepaw," he reasoned.

The sight of Batface moving to leave the den made her heart sink. "Listen to Redleaf," Batface added scoldingly. "What he lacks in guts he makes up for in knowledge." A chuckle resonated from his chest as he left, entering the fog that lingered outside, disappearing.

"He's a piece of work…" Redleaf muttered, and Sedgepaw nodded fondly. She still felt warmth in her heart for the rare gesture of kindness Batface displayed.

Fatigue caused her eyelids to droop with the weight of longing she had for sleep. However, she could not settle in the comfort of her moss bedding. She ached for sleep to rush her healing, but her mind warned her of what darkness lingered in her dreams. The last time Sedgepaw willingly slept, her dreams were haunted with visions of dead cats and a bloody river. Shivering, Sedgepaw curled up in her nest and prayed to StarClan for a seamless sleep.

Hope for rest was shattered when Fernstream barged in like a startled doe. Her long, muted brown fur was bristling, and her face was the epitome of concern when she regarded Sedgepaw with her green gaze. Fernstream rushed her with licks and nuzzles, and Sedgepaw could only squeal and squirm in protest. Her mother's scent was comforting, but her forceful affection made her chest pound in protest.

"You're awake!" Fernstream purred. "Oh, you're awake!"

"Of-of course!" Sedgepaw replied, grunting as her mother's licks raked feverishly against the top of her sore head. When she finished, Sedgepaw was sure her fur was sticking up like a quail's plume. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Redleaf approached her in an instant, gently brushing Fernstream off his patient with a sigh. "Fernstream, she is still recovering. Please, give her space."

"You fell from the top of the Great Cypress, Sedgepaw!" Fernstream exclaimed in panicked frustration. "Do you not remember? I mean, how mousebrained can you be?! Climbing to the top of the Great Cypress like that...You could have died!"

Though Redleaf tried his best to maintain a barrier between Sedgepaw and her erratic mother, it felt like her distressed meows were sounding right into her ear canal. Squeezing her eyes shut, Sedgepaw tried to drown out her anxious rambles, which seemed to travel through her ears straight to her head, where they pounded against her skull like a hatchling trying to break from its fragile eggshell. Redleaf's murmurs of consolation failed to qualm Fernstream, and she only seemed to grow more irritated as time passed. Sedgepaw tried to piece together what she was saying. She fell from the top of the Great Cypress? The thought was absurd. No one ever climbed that high. However, an image of a bird's-eye view of the territory flashed in her mind, and Sedgepaw began to believe there was truth to Fernstream's words.

"Fernstream, I implore you, lower your voice," Redleaf continued to try and calm her down. "Sedgepaw needs peace if she is to heal properly."

Opening her eyes slowly, Sedgepaw heard her mother give a shaky sigh and grow silent. As if regaining her composure, she spoke with the utmost solemnity. "How is she coming along, then?"

Sedgepaw saw a smile of relief cross Redleaf's broad face. "Very well, actually. She should be back out and training in a few days."

"Good…" Fernstream wrapped her plume-like tail around her paws as she took a seat. Her green eyes were downcast, and her face did not convey the slightest hint of satisfaction at Redleaf's words. Sedgepaw felt her chest tighten. She felt as if she harmed her mother more than herself in the incident. Never before had she seen her mother more worried than now.

"I've given her a concoction of lavender and mint to help relax her and tame her headaches." Redleaf replied somewhat robotically, as if he had recited that same explanation several times already.

"Not primrose?" Fernstream pressed. "For bruising and muscles pain?" She edged closer, eyes wide. "Or perhaps greenbriar? Did you rub it against her chest to ease the soreness?"

"I know how to do my job, Fernstream," Redleaf replied in a clipped tone. He eyed her warily. "I do not want to mix too many different herbs when she is responding to the ones I started her on well enough."

"I want to make sure she is being properly taken care of," Fernstream asserted.

"I understand." Redleaf seemed to be growing agitated; Sedgepaw did not recall him ever sounding so stern. "But that is not your duty. Do not question me."

Sedgepaw was still confused as to why her mother seemed to know so much about herbs. If her suggestions were accurate, something to ease the pain in her chest sounded delightful. Why was Redleaf so unreceptive? In the midst of her pondering, an image of a pale brown tabby with mangled shoulders flashed through her mind's eye. That's right! Sedgepaw bolted upward abruptly, causing Redleaf and Fernstream to leap to her side.

"Sedgepaw? What is it?" Redleaf prompted.

"Are you in pain?" Fernstream pressed.

"I remember… a cat," she began. "When I was at the top of the Great Cypress… I saw a strange cat. And before, I saw them before, when I was at the river's edge. A strange cat, one I've never seen before."

Fernstream and Redleaf exchanged confused glances. Fernstream pressed her nose to Sedgepaw's ear. "Sedgepaw… You hit your head hard. I'm sure there are memories that got mixed up, and you probably won't be able to recollect certain things properly for a little while."

"Yes," Redleaf agreed. "Your concussion has inflicted you with temporary amnesia, but it'll pass as you heal. What you recall now is likely a figment of your confused memory and imagination."

"I know what I saw!" Sedgepaw bristled and looked away from them. They thought she was crazy, but the more she dwelled on it, the gravity of the strange cat became clear; they were real and they trespassed. The recollection of those ghastly green eyes made Sedgepaw tremble. "They trespassed, I saw."

Redleaf and Fernstream exchanged another glance, and Redleaf sighed softly. "Perhaps another dosage?"

"That'd be best," Fernstream murmured.

Sedgepaw watched warily as Redleaf whisked away to the far side of the medicine den. When he returned, his mouth carried a bundle of herbs. Setting them at his paws, he gazed down at Sedgepaw warmly. "This mixture of mint leaves and lavender will help you relax. The best remedy is rest."

Wrinkling her nose, Sedgepaw turned her head defiantly away from the herbs. "I can sleep on my own."

Fernstream grumbled sternly, nudging Sedgepaw's cheek. "It'll help you sleep better on your own." She gazed up at Redleaf, extending her paw to the pile of herbs. "Please, allow me."

Redleaf hesitated before sighing, pushing the herbs toward her wordlessly.

Sedgepaw tilted her head questioningly. Fernstream was a warrior not a medicine cat. And yet, she effortlessly held the leaves on her paw, bringing the other to gently squash the tender fibrous herbs together. Sedgepaw's ears flicked in surprise as she watched her mother dexterously mash the mint leaves together, the moisture that was once trapped in their green veins squished softly and released a sharp, fresh aroma. Faint sweetness filled the air as the pale purple lavender petals were added to the mix. Redleaf stood be his herb stores, which were framed by shreds of lemongrass to keep pests out, he seemed distracted as he pawed at the clumps of grass; then, Sedgepaw noticed the melancholy gleam in Redleaf's eyes. She could not help but wonder what her mother's relationship with the old medicine cat was.

As Fernstream conjured the poultice, there was a rustle at the entrance to the medicine den, and Heronpaw appeared with a mouthful of fresh herbs. The blue tabby tom regarded Redleaf with a respectful nod, but when his blue eyes rested on Fernstream, Sedgepaw noticed him visibly stiffen. His long legs carried him swiftly to the herb store of the den, and he materialized by Fernstream's side in a heartbeat, his eyes narrowed.

"I didn't realize Fernstream was playing medicine cat today," he observed dryly.

"Ferstream's paws are smaller than mine. They can knead the leaves together into a richer poultice, whereas I would just blend the leaves into a thin residue." Redleaf was unphased by his apprentice's sour tone, and Fernstream carried on as if the miffed apprentice was not even there.

"Heronpaw," Fernstream murmured, "had you been here, I'm sure Redleaf would have tasked you with making the poultice for Sedgepaw."

Heronpaw lashed his tail wordlessly and stared sharply at Sedgepaw. She matched his glare, but she failed to understand why he seemed agitated. The apprentice was usually very accommodating like his mentor.

"Why do you look like you swallowed mousebile?" Sedgepaw teased, making Heronpaw flatten his ears.

"Here," Fernstream urged, holding her paw before Sedgepaw's nose as if to prevent her daughter from making another goading comment. "Eat."

Sedgepaw made a face before grudgingly lapping up the poultice. When the concoction hit her tongue, her face spasmed in disgust. "Ugh! Are you trying to make me lose my appetite?"

Redleaf and Fernstream chuckled, but Heronpaw rolled his eyes. "The mixture of mint and lavender is meant to induce sleep and promote relaxation in the muscles." He recited the purpose of the poultice effortlessly just as a bird would its song. "And I found roots from the cardinal flower tree to apply to her head if her headache worsens."

Heronpaw behaved so dutifully, Sedgepaw almost forgot about his tempestuous entrance. Redleaf dipped his chin to his apprentice appreciatively. "Sedgepaw may need that after she's rested some more. Combining remedies is risky."

Heronpaw flattened his ears testily, but his tone was icily calm. "I know that. I just wanted you to know we have it." He bowed his head and gave Fernstream a pointed stare. "As the medicine cat apprentice, it's my duty."

The silence that followed was accompanied by suffocating tension. Though Sedgepaw had a paw in dreamland, she was not immune to the oppressive atmosphere wafting around the cats like a storm threatening to break. Her mind was too foggy to perceive the reason behind the unease. All she could do was bear with the discomfort of the pressure in the air, which seemed ready to collapse on them all when Fernstream stood with a lash of her tail.

"I'll be excusing myself now," she announced coldly. Sedgepaw felt a brisk lick scrape across her snout, and Fernstream's warm scent washed over her. "I'll check on you in the evening." Her whisper seemed far away, echoing from a distance.

Redleaf cleared his throat as the she-cat made her way towards the entrance. "Actually, I need to speak with you."

Fernstream paused. "Oh?"

"Yes, in private," Redleaf added. Her flicked his tail at Heronpaw. "My lemongrass is becoming wilted. Go fetch more fresh stalks, please, before the bugs catch on."

Heronpaw merely flicked as his mentor spoke, grooming his forearm with practiced licks. Though he was quiet, Sedgepaw could see the rigidity in his frame as he was dismissed once more. Standing on his tall legs, Heronpaw nodded and whisked out of the den, but not before flashing Fernstream with one final glare. "I'll be back in the evening," he murmured.

Sedgepaw felt like she was walking in on a story halfway through; there were missing pieces to these relationships. As Fernstream stepped into the shadows of the far side of the medicine den, she felt her head become heavy and her muscles unwind. The concoction she consumed burbled in her belly, and her limbs felt warm.

"Sleep well, Sedgepaw," Redleaf murmured before following after her mother.

The edges of her vision grew blurry as Sedgepaw struggled to focus on the medicine cat and her mother. Ears perked, she listened in on their conversation in secret. Their hushed murmurs rose from the darkness ethereally, fading into the air so fast she struggled to catch the words. It was only when their conversation seemed to grow a shade darker in intensity that she began to hear what was being said.

"All I am suggesting is that this could be a sign." Redleaf's voice was stern once more, almost frustrated.

"You're suggesting more than that." Her mother's hiss was harsh. "StarClan is trying to take them from me."

Sedgepaw's ears twitched. StarClan? Taking who… Me? She felt her blood turn to ice. No, there's no way that's what they meant. She was a good apprentice. Why would StarClan want her gone?

"As they should," Redleaf argued. "You know the prophecy. StarClan warned you; They warned us both, and did not heed Them."

"I'll not be having this discussion with you again, Redleaf." Her mother sounded scared. "I made my choice. StarClan allowed me to give birth to them. You cannot tell me They can be so cruel as to take them away?"

So they were speaking of her? And what's worse? Her and her siblings. Sedgepaw felt her blood run cold. StarClan wanted her dead? She fidgeted in her nest, pelt prickling with unease. The weight of divine justice grew heavy on her; she felt like her ribs would collapse at the idea of her holy ancestors condemning her since birth. Sedgepaw could only wonder… why?

"You underestimate Them." Redleaf's tone was grave. "You had a destiny."

Fernstream laughed ruefully. "A destiny," she muttered bitterly. "I never wanted to be you, Redleaf. I wanted my own life. I fell in love. I could never be the medicine cat you wanted me to be."

"You misunderstand!" Redleaf snapped. Fury painted his voice in angry hues of crimson. "Your life is not yours to live! Just as my life is not mine to live. StarClan chooses our destiny, and we are born to accept it and fulfill our purpose. By betraying Their dominion you have doomed yourself and your family." A hiss escaped him, but his voice grew hoarse and tired, so much so that his words almost gave out in the end. "It was never what I wanted. It's always been what They wanted. It always will be."

Blood like ice in her veins, Sedgepaw's heart hammered painfully inside her chest. Squeezing her eyes shut, she prayed for sleep to save her from hearing such monstrous claims. StarClan did not want her alive. Could it be that she was never meant to be born? Please, let this just be a bad dream… please.

"I love my family," Fernstream murmured. "If that is a crime in the eyes of StarClan, so be it. I can be doomed to oblivion, but I will never regret my choice."

"Then you are a fool," Redleaf hissed. "You know the prophecy. Your kits should have never been born."

Fernstream growled and Sedgepaw stiffened when she heard a struggle erupt in the shadows. An exchange of hisses and thuds caused the marigold to shiver. Though every muscle in her body screamed to come to the aid of her mother, her body was frozen and numb; between the shock of the words being said and the strength of her medicine, Sedgepaw was rendered helpless. Suddenly, the disturbance stopped, and Sedgepaw could hear heavy breathing between the two cats.

"Forgive me," Fernstream mewed shakily. "I did not mean to strike you."

"No matter," Redleaf grunted. "It is not my forgiveness you should covet. There is only one divine judge you should fear."

Sedgepaw promptly shut her eyes when she saw Fernstream emerge from the shadows. She placed one paw purposefully above her eye, peeking from beneath it so she could see the rest of this exchange unfold. Her heart sank when she saw the fatigue and fear in her mother's face, and she felt her stomach do flips in her belly when Redleaf emerged to shadow her. He looked so angry. Sedgepaw never knew Redleaf could even muster such rage.

"I am resigned to my fate," Fernstream decided. "Do not speak to me again about this, Redleaf."

"You may have accepted your fate, but have your kits?" Redleaf suggested. Sedgepaw could feel his gaze singe her fur. "They were never given the option. StarClan giveth and taketh away."

Sedgepaw could hear the pawsteps of Fernstream as she exited the den. As silence settled in the atmosphere, Sedgepaw could hardly breathe. She was never meant to be born. Her mother was supposed to be a medicine cat… but she chose a life with a family. Sedgepaw felt as small as an ant as her role in the cosmos became grimly clear.

As if to accentuate her existential dread, Redleaf murmured a prophetic hymn: "The birth of three who were not meant to be will give rise to revolution."


	7. Open Old Wounds

KALEIDOSCOPIC images paraded Sedgepaw's vision, creating a pattern of reds, oranges, and yellows. It was like the sunset had been shattered into dozens of pieces, which rained down before Sedgepaw's eyes with the vividity of an inferno. A caterwaul ripped through the air, and suddenly her vision, which was a tourbillion of colors, cleared to reveal a campestral plain of dry grasses that swayed against a stiff, hot breeze. A large oak tree grew centerfold in the sandhills, and it cast a monstrous shadow over the grasses, for behind it was the simmering, scarlet form of the setting sun.

Peeling away from the tree's shadow were dozens of cats. They gazed at Sedgepaw with eyes that shone like tiny moons. However, unlike the grandiose oak, the cats did not produce shadows of their own. Among them, Sedgepaw recognized the slender frame and spiralling tabby markings of Vinestripe. He broke away from the line of cats gazing at her to approach her, and Sedgepaw felt her fur stand on end when she gazed up into the luminescent depths of his eyes. She felt like all the knowledge of the stars and beyond was cradled inside his alabaster gaze.

"The sun will set on us unless we rise."

His words started as a whisper, but then they were followed by a chorus from the cats behind him. They all told Sedgepaw the same thing. Again and again, the spectral cats chanted, while Sedgepaw could only gawk in her struggle to understand what was happening.

"What does this mean!?" she yowled. "Wait!"

When she spoke, the figures started to fade away. From either end, the cats faded out of sight like fog forced to dissipate. Only Vinestripe remained, and Sedgepaw lunged for him, hoping she could stop him from leaving her in confusion like the others. Instead, her paws pierced through him as if he were nothing but a cloud; he vanished with the sun, which set behind the horizon, leaving Sedgepaw in the dark.

Only his whisper remained, "Rise."

Sedgepaw gazed around the quiet territory in peril, left to ponder the gravity of this message. Her panicked gasps were drowned out by the distant sound of arguing. It rattled at her feet, coming from the ground up, splitting the earth in a fissure of blackness. Sedgepaw helplessly fell into it, and she woke in her mossy nest.

"Hm?" She gazed around in confusion as her eyes struggled to focus. Sedgepaw felt trapped in a translucent, gelatinous bubble, which prevented her from interacting with the world around her by distorting her sight, making everything a coagulated blur.

Heronpaw's stony voice resounded first. "It was just a velleity to her." She heard the rustle of him fumbling through herbs, and a grunt of frustration as the piles hit the ground. "Why do you continue to treat her as if she has a say in our work?" The iciness of his tone bordered on breaking into boiling resentment.

"She vied for apprenticeship on more than just a whim, Heronpaw," Redleaf explained calmly. "But StarClan had other plans… Her decision does not make her knowledge useless to me."

"It was not a decision. It was a mistake," Heronpaw hissed bitingly. "I am willing to bet my tail that if she did not have them, she would still be here." It was quiet, and Sedgepaw felt a pit of despair blossom inside her belly, curling its roots into her intestines, making her feel sick. They were talking about Fernstream. Memories of the day before assaulted her, and Sedgepaw felt existential dread return to take its place in her wary heart.

And yet, Sedgepaw could not figure out why Redleaf seemed to be defending her mother. Before, it seemed Redleaf was hellbent on dooming her mother to eternal damnation. Now, it seemed that he vouched for her character.

"You would probably prefer that… huh? You'd rather have her here."

"Hush, Heronpaw." Redleaf's voice rose an octave, and Sedgepaw realized Heronpaw must have struck a nerve. "You know nothing about that which you speak. Why must you let her disquiet you?"

"Because I know if she were your apprentice, she would be a medicine cat by now!" Heronpaw snapped. "Instead, you have me, and you assign me to grunt work like a damned six-moon-old greenhorn. I have been by your side since she surrendered her position, but I am still seen as nothing but an apprentice."

"Heronpaw, you'll wake Sedgepaw if you keep this up," Redleaf warned in a strained whisper. "Enough."

Sedgepaw's sight finally focused, and she wished it hadn't. The heartbreaking disappointment on Heronpaw's face was something she would not want to remember. His blue eyes were downcast, and his voice was barely above a whisper. "You don't even deny it."

"Heronpaw…"

"No!" Heronpaw snapped again, his eyes gleaming with pain. "I don't want to hear your sympathy. If anything, you should be bestowing it on that apprentice." Sedgepaw stiffened when Heronpaw's tail flicked in her direction.

Sedgepaw squeezed her eyes shut when Heronpaw turned to leave, not wanting them to know she was eavesdropping again. She felt her chest tighten with the overload of information she was cursed with in this forsaken den of marigold. What was worse, she had no power to escape it. These walls were her prison until she recovered. Sedgepaw feared she would go mad before then. When she opened her eyes again, she realized her expression must have mirrored Redleaf's: hopelessness.

Redleaf was silent for a long time, staring out the mouth of his den. Sedgepaw could not help but wonder what he was thinking. The life of a medicine cat was no easy one. Not only did they have to abandon all earthly ties, they had the pressure of speaking for StarClan, and choosing the next leader for MarshClan as well as their own successor. Without them, MarshClan was lost. Sedgepaw did not envy him. However, she failed to respect him; after all, the manner in which he condemned her own mother was inexcusable. Even if the medicine cat saved her life, he simultaneously doomed her mother's.

Rising to her paws, Sedgepaw decided it was time to make her consciousness clear. She cleared her throat hesitantly, prompting Redleaf to look her way. She refrained from shivering under his golden gaze. No longer could she look to him as a holy healer; he was something more. The prophecy he murmured in the den the day before rattled her to the bone. She only managed a tiny smile his way.

"Good morning," he rumbled, returning her smile warmly. Still, Sedgepaw could only recall his glower from before. She struggled to swallow as he approached. "Did you sleep well?"

"Y-yeah." She chuckled nervously. "Like the dead." Ew, bad pun… She shivered at the thought.

"Are you okay?" Redleaf asked, tilting his head with concern.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." Sedgepaw tried to remain calm as the stocky ginger tomcat came closer. His gaze was locked on hers and he mumbled to himself before backing away.

"Your pupils appear normal," he observed. "How are your ribs feeling?"

"Only a little sore. Nowhere near as bad as before."

For the most part, that was true. Sedgepaw only ached when making abrupt movements, but she refused to tell Redleaf that. The sooner she got out of his den, the better. As an extension of StarClan, Redleaf could very well want her dead just as much as They did. They want me dead… The realization made Sedgepaw's heart shatter into a million pieces, leaving a gaping hole in her chest. What was worse, she didn't even do anything to incite Their condemnation. She merely inherited her pending demise.

Redleaf's mutter brought her back to reality, "Very well. Since your concussion seems to have waned, I will not restrict you to bedrest." Sedgepaw smiled, ears perked. "However," he continued. "I cannot let you return to training just yet. Light duty is best, for now, and you are not to leave camp without an escort. You're not strong enough to fight off any potential danger."

It was good enough for Sedgepaw. So long as she was free from Redleaf's den, she was happy. Getting to her paws, Sedgepaw practically ran for the exit to camp, but Redleaf stood before her with an imposing expression.

"Easy," he grumbled. "I did not formally dismiss you yet."

Sedgepaw stared into his eyes, her heart beginning to pound. What other secrets were harbored in the golden depths of his glare? Had he already forseen her death? Time seemed to pass at a snail's pace as they were deadlocked in an unbreaking stare. Redleaf's smile turned the tense atmosphere rosy as he chuckled.

"You need to have your medicine first!" he chirped.

Sedgepaw sighed with relief. "Oh, right, of course."

As he turned to his herb store, she felt relief overcome her. She wanted to see her family, particularly her mother. If they were all doomed to die, they had to cherish what time was left. The sharp scent of mint and lavender returned, and Sedgepaw's nose wrinkled as Redleaf delivered her potion on a broad mangrove leaf. Smiling sheepishly, she lapped up the mixture and swallowed it whole, coughing. Just get me out of here.

Redleaf nodded, satisfied. "I'll be seeing you this evening then."

Sedgepaw nodded and hurried out to camp. She felt like she could breathe easy now that she was free from the overpowering stench of marigold. As she gazed around at the faces of her Clanmates, she was greeted by warm smiles and encouraging head-nods. It seemed they all had anticipated her return to Clan life. And yet, she could not relish their silent welcomes, for within she knew if they knew about the prophecy surrounding her birth, they would want her dead.

Give rise to revolution. What could it mean? Sedgepaw sat, soaking in the sunlight, seeking solace in its warmth. It was mid-morning; most of the Clan was out in the territory, hunting, patrolling, training, those that stayed behind would be saddled with duty during the evening or night shifts. She gazed at her Clanmates as they went about their lives. Egretsong was laughing with her littermates, Gingerstep, Zinniablossom, and Sandthroat. Meanwhile, Toadpaw was tending to the elders' bedding as they lay in the sunlight, swapping stories of their youth while Pebblepaw and Lilypaw groomed their pelts for ticks. Claytooth was entering the nursery with a mouse, likely feeding his mate, Hollyfoot, while his son, Foxkit, danced around his legs.

Could Sedgepaw really be destined to ruin this? The meaning of revolution hung heavy in her heart. She did not feel the spark of passion for change, but when she saw Minnowtail resting alone in the shade of the Fallen Cypress, she felt her chest tighten. Before, he would be sharing tongues with Vinestripe at this time. Vinestripe… Sedgepaw remembered the vision she had of him in the forest, bloodied and beaten, and her resolve began to tremble like a leaf. She felt like she was being pulled in several different directions, and no matter how she stood, she would never not feel the pain of being yanked the other way. She wanted to just give up and break. Seeing her mother leave the medicine den with such sorrow the night before… with her being the cause of it. Maybe Redleaf was right? Maybe she should never have been born?

"Sedgepaw!" From across the clearing, near the lake that flanked camp, Mudpaw burst from the reeds. "You're free!" His bright green eyes glowed as he ran to her.

Seeing his sheer joy, Sedgepaw smiled. How could she think of oblivion when it meant her own siblings would be doomed too? "Of course I'm free," she asserted. "You think a little fall is going to keep me down?"

Mudpaw laughed. "Little?" Mudpaw shook his head. "The whole Clan has been talking about you! No one's been able to climb to the top of the Great Cypress and live since… like… ever!"

"Really?" Sedgepaw's ears perked with interest.

"Yeah" Mudpaw beamed. "That and how mousebrained it was of you to do it."

Sedgepaw's face soured as Mudpaw laughed. She shrugged him off as he tried to affectionately rub his head against her shoulder. "Well, I lived, so I couldn't be that mousebrained."

"Yeah, but you may not be so lucky next time." Mudpaw's tone grew more serious.

Sedgepaw gazed at him quizzically. He never sounded this way. The darkness in her brother's eyes betrayed his worry, and Sedgepaw felt her heart break once more as she realized how cruel their damnation was. How could StarClan want someone like Mudpaw, so full of spirit and compassion, dead?

"You had us worried," Mudpaw went on, growing fidgety under Sedgepaw's curious stare. "For a moment there, I thought you might be… Well…"

Sedgepaw didn't let him finish. She nuzzled her brother's neck as a purr erupted loudly from her throat. "I get it, I get it." She leaned back away from him and smiled fondly. "I'm sorry."

Their tender moment was short-lived, for the rotten stench of fear spilled from the marsh, rolling into camp like a dense fog that threatened to strangle the Clan cats of their peaceful morning routines. Sedgepaw narrowed her eyes as the wall of sawgrass began to rustle and a patrol of cats broke from the shadows, fur bristling and eyes wide.

Leading the flustered clutch of cats was Grayjaw; his permanent scowl appeared fiercer than ever and his yellow eyes glowed with an unsettling thirst for blood. Not far behind, Kiteclaw materialized. The scent of blood tainted the air, and Sedgepaw noticed the gray tabby was speckled with blood across the white fur on her face and shoulders. It did not belong to her. Loud crashing noises sounded from the brush and a bloodcurdling caterwaul broke the stunned silence within the Clan. Grunts and growls thundered from the shadows where Otternose and Fogspots emerged, struggling to drag an elderly tortoiseshell she-cat from the sawgrass. Her pelt was matted with clumps of peat bog and she reeked of blood and starvation.

Sedgepaw's fur stood on end as she she-cat wildly flailed her limbs, claws unsheathed, at her Clanmates as they mercilessly yanked her to the center of the clearing by her hackles. She could see the gleam of terror in the captured cat's eyes, and her voice was becoming hoarse from wailing. Soon, all of MarshClan surrounded the irate cat; the apprentices that were attending to the elders now stood beside them as they huddled close around the intruder. Claytooth remained by the nursery, fur standing on end, and he acted as a big, ruddy shield as the eyes of kits and queens gleamed with fear and curiosity behind him in the shadows of the cypress roots. Sedgepaw ended up being wedged between Gingerstep and Zinniablossom; they reeked of fear and rage.

"Who is that?" Gingerstep fretted. "Why would she be brought here?"

"She was brought here to die, of course!" Zinniablossom snapped over Sedgepaw's head at her sister. "She's a filthy Fallen, no doubt."

To die? Sedgepaw gazed at the pitiful pile of fur before her. The she-cat was reduced to a wheezing, trembling mess by the time Otternose and Fogspots released her. Grayjaw placed a possessive paw on top of the captive's skinny shoulder like a hunter, proud of his kill. Sedgepaw felt a familiar, sickly chill in her blood. She remembered Vinestripe looking similarly helpless under the glares of her Clanmates only a few days ago.

It did not take long for Whitestar to take notice of the chaos. She pushed her way out of the curtain of moss that hid the hollowed belly of the Fallen Cypress. Amber eyes burning like the sun above, she regarded the patrol with unbridled fury.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded.

"We found this traitor sniffing about along our side of the river's border," Kiteclaw reported dutifully, voice clipped. "Grayjaw challenged her, but she tried to flee."

"I ordered my patrol to pursue her," Grayjaw continued, his deep voice a gravelly rasp. "We wanted answers. I thought all Fallen found on our territory should be questioned."

Whitestar slowly drew her eyes away from her warriors to the intruder stuck beneath Grayjaw's massive paw. The she-cat refused to return Whitestar's stare, instead, Sedgepaw's heart began to race when she realized the mysterious she-cat was staring directly at her, or through her, more like it. The she-cat's amber eyes appeared as terror slowly faded from their depths. She's Fallen? Sedgepaw could not restraint her sympathy for the skinny, elderly she-cat; even beneath the clods of mud, she could see the bones protruding from her dull black and ginger fur.

"Look at me, Fallen," Whitestar snapped.

The Fallen she-cat silently refused. Sedgepaw's ears perked with surprise. This old cat was either very brave or very dumb.

A bellowing growl erupted from the back of Grayjaw's throat, and he brought his paw to the top of the she-cat's head, forcing her to look at Whitestar by pulling her forehead back by his claws. The she-cat hissed in protest, her skin pulled so taut by Grayjaw's grip that the white of her eyes were exposed.

A small, smug smile appeared on Whitestar's pink lips as the she-cat was rendered helpless before her. Sedgepaw could smell her own fear now, but it was for her own leader, not the mysterious cat before them. The old, underfed intruder was hardly a threat. She looked ready to croak within the next few moons. As she looked around, most of her Clanmates looked disgusted by and terrified of the mysterious she-cat. Not one seemed to share her sentiment.

"Now," Whitestar continued, sounding calmer now that Grayjaw had a better hold on the she-cat. "Tell me your name."

"Scorchface," she rasped.

As soon as her name was spoken, disturb mutterings erupted from the surrounding cats. Sedgepaw's ears perked with interest. Scorchface? The Scorchface? It was hard to imagine such a bloodthirsty killer would be reduced to the bag of bones before her. Sedgepaw frowned in disgust as the tortoiseshell began to cough out a bout of chuckles.

Scorchface curled her lip at Whitestar, revealing blackened fangs. "So you're Pikestar's successor?" Spittle rained from the elderly she-cat lips as she managed a cackle. "I always wondered who would be diabolical enough to succeed him."

"Keep your mouth shut, filth!" Grayjaw snapped, stepping on her head harder. "Only give the answers Whitestar wants, nothing more."

The only stories Sedgepaw knew of Pikestar were ones of glory. He was one of the best fishers in MarshClan, and he was big enough to fight off a fox with his bare claws. Why would Scorchface call him diabolical? Or, more importantly, what made Whitestar more diabolical than him?

Whitestar's eyes narrowed before flickering to the elders that were gathered around Scorchface. "Certaintly you know of this Fallen, Vervainclaw?" Whitestar asked the elders.

Of the elders, Vervainclaw stepped forward; his pale gray fur seemed to grow paler with each passing day as he aged, and his pale blue eyes were clouded like a murky dewdrop as cataracts fought to consume his vision. "I do," Vervainclaw confirmed solemnly. "We grew up together."

Whitestar nodded, smiling. "Then surely you can disclose to the Clan of Scorchface's crimes."

Nodding, Vervainclaw stared blankly at Scorchface, his ghostly voice droning out each syllable in a pained whisper. "Many of you may have heard of Scorchface," he began. "But hearing of her is not that same as knowing or seeing what she had done… It was a humid, dark night during the rainy season. The water was almost up to our shoulders as I led my night patrol through the swamp back to camp. It was an oddly quiet night… not a single cricket could be heard." His eyes widened, as if he was elsewhere, seeing something frightful, terrible. "Our wading slowed as we began to notice an odor most foul. I knew something was amiss when I heard buzzing, lots of buzzing."

Vervainclaw licked his lips as he spoke, his voice hindering as he tried to speak again. Sedgepaw noticed a slight tremble in his whiskers. The fear was raw in his eyes. "The buzzing was strange because it was deep and loud… not like a mosquito, but like a fly. Then I saw them. Flies, flies everywhere, in the dead of night! It was unheard of. I was the first to see what they were flying towards… I-I saw Scorchface…" A sob broke from his throat, making his voice crack. "She was dragging a smaller cat away from camp, but the water and mud was so thick… so thick… she could not drag the body fast enough. That's when I realized what the smell was coming from. The body being drug, it was cut from the jugular down, down, down to the belly, gutted. Her intestines were rising up from the water, buoyant, floating, weighing the body down as Scorchface tried to escape." His voice cracked again as he struggled to continue. "I was too stunned to speak, but I stepped closer, and the moon just so happened to break from the clouds to reveal Emberstorm's face, fr-frozen in shock."

Gingerstep left Sedgepaw's side, fleeing to the warriors den, and she could see the warrior looked ill. Many of the faces of the gathered cats looked grim or disgusted. Sedgepaw herself could hardly stand to listen any longer. Thankfully, Vervainclaw was too shaken to continue. He began sobbing softly as he relived the hellish night. She frowned with sympathy as Owleyes began to console him, pressing her tawny tabby fur against his and rasping her tongue across his head.

Larkwing raised his chin and stepped forward, his brown and white fur bristling and his green eyes looking spooked. "With all due respect, Whitestar, Vervainclaw will no longer be speaking of this."

Whitestar's eyes narrowed, but she relented with a nod. "You all know what happened after Vervainclaw found Scorchface with Emberstorm's body." The Clan was silent, waiting with baited breath before she continued, "Pikestar discovered she killed her daughter out of jealousy; Scorchface wanted to become leader of MarshClan, but when StarClan refused to pick her, she took her rage out on her own daughter."

"That's quite the colorful story, Whitestar," Scorchface rasped. "Do you always tell such tall tales?"

Whitestar snorted. "I only speak the truth, Fallen, and see to it my Clan bears witness."

"Is that what you tell yourself at night?" Scorchface sneered, lip curled. "Does that help you sleep any better? Whose truth do you speak? You know nothing of the truth, that's why you wish to demonize all those that dare to scrutinize."

"Enough!" Whitestar snapped.

"Where's Vinestripe?" Scorchface demanded. "Did he step on your tail one too many times?"

"Another word, and I'll slit your throat myself," Grayjaw warned.

"What about Leechpelt? Nettlefrost? Jayflight?" Scorchface continued. Then, she started to laugh, almost maniacally, even as Grayjaw dug his claws deeper into her head with a warning hiss. "Those that don't believe in your truth, Whitestar, where do they go? Huh?"

Whitestar was silent, but her tail was lashing. The glare in her eyes burned like fire. "I'll not have you question my integrity in my camp," she snarled. "You are Fallen, Scorchface. You have no say here. Your words mean nothing." Turning to the rest of MarshClan, Whitestar's eyes grazed across the masses, and Sedgepaw froze under them. "MarshClan, we all know the punishment for a Fallen found trespassing on our land."

Sedgepaw's thoughts were drowned out by the resonate mews from her Clanmates; they all exchanged nods and murmurs of agreement, while she felt left out from the decision-making. Though she knew the undebated consequence of trespassing on MarshClan land, Sedgepaw felt uneasy when she finally was able to see the law in action. In her teachings, the Fourth Code of the Warrior was simple: to show no mercy to any and all intruders. It was so short and sweet, Sedgepaw never contemplated what it meant until now.

"At moonhigh, we will execute Scorchface for her crimes, under the eyes of our ancestors, so they may witness and relish in our devotion to Them and the code." Whitestar nodded to Grayjaw. "You and your patrol will be rewarded for your efforts with double servings of fresh-kill."

Sedgepaw stiffened when Whitestar's gaze returned to the rest of the Clan. When Whitestar nodded to Zinniablossom, Sedgepaw slowly shifted away from the warrior, not wanting to attract too much attention from their vindictive leader. Thankfully, she felt Mudpaw shuffle up close from behind her, and his scent comforted her in the wake of an impending execution.

"Zinniablossom," Whitestar mewed. "You will stand guard over Scorchface with Claytooth for now. Just before sunset, you will turn over your position with Egretsong and Minnowtail."

"Understood," Zinniablossom mewed, nodding obediently. She left Sedgepaw's side to join Kiteclaw and Grayjaw as they dragged the elder across the clearing towards the reeds that bordered the lake. As they marched over, Zinniablossom flicked her tail for Claytooth to follow, and the warrior obliged, joining the cats as they dropped the prisoner under the shadows of the cattails.

Slowly, the gathered MarshClan cats returned to their mid-morning routine, albeit more tensely. Sedgepaw still felt too stunned to move, and it was not until Whitestar's shadow was cast over her that she realized her leader was standing before her. Sedgepaw felt her tongue swell in her throat as Whitestar fixed her with a small smile. Up close, Sedgepaw could see the smallest ripples in her leader's stark white pelt, where tiny scars prevented the fur from growing back; they were littered across her fur, and Sedgepaw could not help but wonder about the severity of the scars she inflicted on others.

"How are you healing?" Whitestar asked calmly.

"Uh-uhm, well, I'm healing well, Whitestar," Sedgepaw affirmed. Her paws itched with unease. She glanced behind her to see Mudpaw skipping over to the nursery, away from her. You mouseheart… She hesitantly returned her gaze to Whitestar, smiling nervously.

"Good to hear." The leader sat before her, grooming her paw nonchalantly. "I trust Redleaf is taking good care of you?"

Sedgepaw wondered how much Whitestar knew. Does she know about the prophecy? Her tail began to tremble. As MarshClan's leader, Whitestar was responsible for ensuring good order and discipline. If Whitestar knew she and her siblings were prophesied to incite revolution, she would surely want them dead too.

"Sedgepaw?" Whitestar prompted, quirking a brow.

"Ah, uhm, Redleaf is being very good to me!" she responded, flustered. "He said I should be fully healed very soon."

Whitestar smiled again. It almost seemed disingenuous to Sedgepaw; it was like a ghost of a smile, something that threatened to fade with time. "That's good to hear. Batface speaks highly of you, and MarshClan is astounded by your feat of climbing the Great Cypress." She leaned in conspiratorially. "I will be watching your training with great interest. Your test is coming soon, correct?"

Sedgepaw nodded slowly, rendered helpless by the closeness of her leader.

"Fantastic. I am anticipating it as much as you." Her smile grew wider. A cheshire grin. "I am expecting good things from you, Sedgepaw."

As Whitestar stalked away passed Sedgepaw, she felt every muscle in her body relax. With a loud sigh, she gazed around camp. Egretsong and Sandthroat were consoling a frazzled Gingerstep. The elders, Larkwing and Owleyes, were likely still soothing Vervainclaw in their den of dense bulrush and soft rush, which was tied together naturally by dense vines of ivy and jasmine. Standing outside was Cypressfang and Russetnose, exchanging heated murmurs, likely regarding the death penalty looming over Scorchface, while Pebblepaw, Toadpaw, and Lilypaw watched with wide eyes. By the nursery, Mudpaw was the only one still smiling, for he was entertaining Foxkit with a ball of moss.

In a heartbeat, the peaceful sight was greeted by upon exiting the den was changed. Sedgepaw could only sit in the heart of camp and wonder. Was their way of life really so fragile? She felt the pit of dread in her once more. She had to come to terms with three certainties: one, Scorchface would die tonight, two, her final test as an apprentice was on the horizon, and three, she and her siblings were most likely destined to destroy MarshClan.


	8. Black and White

DAYLIGHT waned, its pale golden shine bleeding across the sky as it slowly darkened in shade. Sedgepaw remained glued to the center of camp, watching as the shadows of the Fallen Cypress rotated as time passed her by. She felt numb. How did her simple life become so complicated overnight? Kneading the grass beneath her unsheathed claws, she pondered. She needed to figure out _why_  StarClan made such a bleak prophecy. The circumstances of her birth were shrouded in mystery. Did Fernstream intend to become a queen, or did Sedgepaw and her siblings come as a surprise?

Her unanswered questions were brought to a halt when the hunting party returned. Emerging from the sawgrass was a collection of hunters that left the Clan before dawn. Leading the group was Spiderfang; the small, dusky black deputy had a collection of fish in his jaws, and his pelt still gleamed from being soaked in the water. His amber eyes flashed when he looked passed Sedgepaw and spotted Scorchface, sleeping under the watchful eyes of Zinniablossom and Claytooth.

The deputy bounded across the clearing to place his fresh-kill under the shadows of the bur marigold that built the medicine den, where the pile belonged. Following after him were the other cats in his hunting party: Palemist, Shaleheart, Blackpaw, and Molefoot. Sedgepaw did not bother watching them go to MarshClan's latest prisoner, for her eyes found Blueflower hedging her way through the grass with a couple of mice between her teeth. Sedgepaw's heart fluttered when the she-cat stepped out of the wall of grasses and into the sunlight, her blue-gray fur shining. The warrior captured her attention since the night of Vinestripe's trail; the image of the she-cat's deep blue eyes full of sorrow and concern for the Fallen was burned into her memory.

 _I need to talk to her,_  Sedgepaw realized. Taking a step towards the warrior, she hesitated when Ospreypaw came bounding up to her with a smile from the sawgrass with Yewpaw not too far behind. Any other time, Sedgepaw would be thrilled to see her friend and sister, but she could not help but flatten her ears in irritation when they approached.

"Well, well, well," Ospreypaw purred, yellow eyes bright with relief. "Look who decided to make their way out of the medicine den."

Yewpaw hurried to touch her nose to Sedgepaw. "I'm so glad you're okay!" she chirped.

Sedgepaw shrugged. "I don't know why you all were so worried," she grumbled. "It takes a lot to keep me down."

Ospreypaw rolled her eyes. "It's only because you're my friend that I won't call your bluff."

"When you were brought back to camp, you looked dead!" Yewpaw protested worriedly. Her sister pressed her head beneath Sedgepaw's chin, a soft sigh escaping her. "I thought I lost you."

Sedgepaw was gazing over Yewpaw's head at Blueflower as her sister spoke, watching the warrior deposit her mice in the fresh-kill pile. Oddly, the warrior seemed to recoil in shock when she saw Scorchface, and Sedgepaw leaned towards her in reflex, making her press closer to Yewpaw in consequence.

Ospreypaw pulled Sedgepaw from her fixation. "Hey, who is that skinny, old cat laying in the shade?"

"Scorchface," Sedgepaw replied grimly, still watching Blueflower.

Yewpaw turned in the direction of the elderly prisoner, eyes wide with surprise. "That murderer is still alive?" she scoffed. "I always thought she was just some fake villain in the elders' stories…"

"No, she's real alright," Sedgepaw grunted. Peeling her eyes away from Blueflower, she gazed down at her sister with a frown. "Grayjaw's border patrol found her on our territory, so they brought her in."

"What's going to happen to her?" Ospreypaw asked.

"Whitestar ordered her execution!" Bounding in from behind was Blackpaw; his usual cocky grin was plastered on his face, and Sedgepaw groaned internally as he took a seat beside them. "Apparently, she slandered her in front of the whole Clan!"

"Yeah, I know, I was there," Sedgepaw mewed dryly.

Blackpaw sniffed. "Well, we can't [i]all[/i] be stuck in camp… Nothing would get done if we all were lazing in the medicine den like you."

Sedgepaw bristled. Her muscles screamed to rake her claws across his smug face.

Yewpaw interjected sheepishly. "Blackpaw, you know Sedgepaw's still healing. It's not her fault."

[i]I don't need you to defend me.[/i] Sedgepaw was growing impatient. Though her sister had good intentions, she ended up glaring daggers at her and Blackpaw interchangeably.

Ospreypaw cleared her throat. "When is this execution supposed to happen?"

"Midnight," Sedgepaw replied tensely, appreciating the subject change. Ospreypaw always knew how to save her from her temper. "Whitestar will be hoasting it in camp under the vigilance of StarClan."

Blackpaw rolled his shoulders with excitement. "I can't believe we get to see [i]the[/i] Scorchface die at the claws of our own leader! Whitestar is so cool." He puffed his chest out confidently. "I'm going to be just like her one day. Just wait! StarClan will pick me for sure."

Ospreypaw snickered. "Doubt it, They would never get a word in with you around."

Yewpaw and Ospreypaw laughed as Blackpaw pouted, but Sedgepaw was distracted by her search for Blueflower. She spotted her near the warriors den, which was composed of a forest of knotweed that threatened to suffocate the few stalks of sugarcane plumegrass that used to grow in abundance in camp. The wilted, feathery ends of the plumegrass rested against the tall knotweed for support. With the undergrowth being so thick, the shadows of the warrior den were impenetrable, and they hugged Blueflower as she sat in their midst, staring at Scorchface from afar.

"Are you okay?" Ospreypaw nudged at Sedgepaw, eyes glowing with concern. "Do you want me to take you to the medicine den?"

"No, no… Uh, I just… I need to ask Blueflower something." Sedgepaw stood slowly, eyes not leaving the blue-gray warrior.

She felt Yewpaw's eyes bore into her. "You've been staring at her since we've come back," she mentioned, not sounding accusatory but curious. "What's eating you?"

"Nothing!" Sedgepaw snapped, going on the defensive as all three apprentices gawked at her. "Can't I just ask her a question without being interrogated?"

Yewpaw flinched and nodded. "Of course… Sorry I asked."

Sedgepaw did not have time to apologize, though she did feel a twinge of regret for yelling at her sister. She did not want to waste the opportunity to talk to Blueflower alone. Leaving the apprentices, she trotted across the clearing to the warrior, but as she drew closer, her paws felt heavier. Uncertainty clouded her mind, and she felt her trot slow to a saunter, and her eyes became dodgy as she entered the shadows stretching from the warriors den. [i]Great, I walked all the way over here without even thinking about what I had to say![/i] Her mind raced.

Frozen in her tracks, Sedgepaw gaped at Blueflower as the warrior noticed her approaching. Her blue eyes struck her like lightning as she stared, sparking a flame inside her that she had not a prayer of extinguishing, for it burned bright and true, searing her heart with warmth, and bringing her belly to a boil. Sedgepaw forgot how to swallow. She was so beautiful. When she smiled in her direction, Sedgepaw felt the earth give way beneath her paws, and she was free falling into the depths of her presence, plunging hopelessly, helplessly, happily. She never realized how soft and sweet her scent was until Blueflower left her seat to close the distance between them.

"Hello, Sedgepaw." Her voice was soft, as usual. Sedgepaw remembered hearing it above the madness of Vinestripe's trial, and it was like music to her ears. "I'm glad you're healing well."

"I… Uh… Thank you, Blueflower." Sedgepaw offered a smile in return. She tried to keep her posture confident, raising her chest, keeping her tail and chin high. Her golden eyes betrayed her, however, and gleamed with uncertainty. "I was just… coming to-uh-say-"

Blueflower waited patiently, her blue eyes not leaving hers. Sedgepaw cursed herself for not being able to form a coherent sentence.

"I-uh…" Sedgepaw shuffled her paws, thinking. "How-how are you?"

Blueflower giggled, and it sounded like the peal of a bell. Sedgepaw shivered. "I'm doing well," she purred. "Thank you for asking. And you?" There was a slight tilt to her head as she asked.

"Uhm… I'm feeling fine, I guess. I'll be out of the medicine den soon." As Sedgepaw remembered how to speak, her confidence slowly returned, and she felt less like a stumbling fawn. "With all these Fallen turning up, I need to be back on my paws soon so I can be around to help."

Blueflower's features darkened, and Sedgepaw winced. Did she say something wrong? "They aren't turning up so much as they are being sought after…" she murmured, averting her eyes.

"Do… you feel bad for them?" Sedgepaw wondered.

"Certainly not!" she protested, fur beginning to bristle. "And what if I did? What's wrong with that?"

Sedgepaw frowned, shrugging and feeling guilty. "I wasn't trying to say there was anything wrong about it… A life's a life."

Blueflower stared at her for a long time, and Sedgepaw was trapped in her gaze. The silence felt charged, and when it broke, Sedgepaw could finally breathe. "I'm sorry for snapping," she apologized gently. "I didn't mean to take it the wrong way; I guess I'm just shaken up by seeing Scorchface here."

"Yeah, I didn't think she was still alive," Sedgepaw replied, happier now that their misunderstanding was cleared.

"No one thought she was alive." Blueflower was gazing across the clearing at the prisoner. "When she was banished, several cats in the Clan vowed to find her and kill her."

Sedgepaw's ears perked. "Really?"

"Yes, but Pikestar forbid it. He did not want to risk losing warriors over revenge," Blueflower mewed. "There are still cats that inherited a grudge towards Scorchface from their parents; Palemist is one of them."

Sedgepaw tilted her head quizzically. "Is it because Vervainclaw is her father?"

Blueflower nodded, before sighing feebly and shaking her head. "So much energy is wasted on vengeance and hatred in this Clan," she murmured. "I feel like we are a flame, burning so bright that we threaten to burn out."

Sedgepaw's eyes widened, and she could not help but nod slowly in agreement. Gingerly, she approached Blueflower to sit beside her in the shade. She gazed up at the clouds and they rolled by. "Do you think Scorchface deserves to die?" she asked, voice just above a whisper.

When the words came out, she instantly regretted them. Blueflower could easily take her question as a question of Whitestar's decision, which was against the warrior code. No one could question their leader, especially not some lowly apprentice like she. Her heart sunk as anxiety weighed it down, and it sat in her gut like a stone.

"I don't think anyone deserves to die," Blueflower whispered.

Relief flooded Sedgepaw. Not only did the words comfort her, they brought her closer to Blueflower. Perhaps she was not alone in her worries of Clan life? She turned to Blueflower, eyes bright. She could not remember the last time she felt this at peace.

"I especially don't think Scorchface deserves to die," Blueflower went on.

Sedgepaw's eyes widened with surprise. She glanced around camp nervously, hoping no one heard Blueflower's transgression but her. "What do you mean?" she demanded in a fervent whisper.

Blueflower gazed at her, and there was a strange emotion in her blue eyes. There were secrets in the depths. "Those stories… that's all they are." Blueflower frowned. "We don't know what happened back then because we weren't there; Vervainclaw is the only cat still alive from that time besides Scorchface, and he grows more senile by the day."

Sedgepaw's heart pounded as she struggled to measure the gravity of what Blueflower was saying. Not only did she disagree with the execution, she disagreed with the judgment itself. If anyone told Whitestar of Blueflower's beliefs… she could be deemed Fallen. Sedgepaw felt determination swell inside her heart; she refused to let that happen. Blueflower's secret would be safe with her.

"Think about it," Blueflower pressed. "No one's even bothered to hear Scorchface's side of the story. What if it was a misunderstanding?"

"Why don't we just ask Scorchface?"

Blueflower shook her head. "You think they would stop and listen [i]now?[/i] The Clan is out for blood. One of the most notorious Fallen was caught on our land, and you think they would let her walk?"

"You're right." Sedgepaw stared at her paws, feeling helpless. What if Scorchface was innocent? "But if she didn't do it, who did?"

Blueflower smiled, and Sedgepaw felt her face grow hot. "I wish there were more cats like you, Sedgepaw."

She was not prepared for the compliment; it hit her like a thousand suns. She could not help but smile. "Why are you saying that?"

"You aren't afraid to question our society out loud. If you were like anyone else, you'd be running straight to Whitestar to report me."

 _She is right._  Sedgepaw was breaking the code by even having this conversation, and she was breaking it again by not reporting Blueflower for it.  _The second law: to obey all orders from the leader and deputy without protest. The ninth law: to report all violations of orders instructed to be enforced. I just broke the code twice… and it doesn't even bother me._

"I can't report you," Sedgepaw confessed.

Blueflower tilted her head. "Why not?"

She smiled, shaking her head.  _I'm so hopeless._  "Because I agree with you… I'm just as guilty as you are." She laughed to herself, realizing her guilt as she spoke aloud. "Ever since they drug Vinestripe away, something inside me has been screaming, and it hasn't stopped." As she spoke, her voice broke, and she felt small and weak to be this vulnerable beside the warrior.

"I feel the same," Blueflower murmured. "I've seen too many good cats get sent away because they dare to doubt Whitestar or question the Fallen's fate." She smiled sadly. "Vinestripe is like us too, and he got banished for it. Now he's living in exile for the rest of his life."

Sedgepaw's heart started pounding as her vision of Vinestripe returned. She remembered his bloody body, standing before her in the forest. She shook her head. "I don't think he's alive, Blueflower."

She heard Blueflower inhale sharply. "What did you see?" she demanded in a hushed voice. "Was he murdered too?"

Sedgepaw's fur prickled with unease, and she shook her head, afraid to say more. "I-I don't know… I just have a feeling." She narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean 'was he murdered too'?"

Blueflower sighed, eyes half shut. "Nevermind, we've got company."

Sedgepaw noticed Redleaf approaching them from the far side of the clearing, where the medicine den resided. She felt her blood run cold at the sight of him. Being beside Blueflower for so long helped her forget about the prophecy. Now that Redleaf's appearance served as a painful reminder.

"We will continue this later?" Blueflower asked.

Sedgepaw smiled, nodding excitedly. Knowing there was someone that shared her thoughts was all she had to cling to in order to maintain her sanity. "Of course."

"Tonight, most of the Clan will be gone to watch the execution," Blueflower's whispers became more rushed as Redleaf came closer. "I will stay behind. There is somewhere I want to show you, we can speak safely there."

Sedgepaw nodded wordlessly to her as Redleaf reached them. The stocky ginger medicine cat exchanged a smile with Blueflower as she left her side for the fresh-kill pile. Redleaf watched her go with a question in his yellow eyes. Instead, he just shrugged and nodded to Sedgepaw. "It's been quite the interesting day, eh?"

"That's one way to put it," Sedgepaw scoffed.

Redleaf chuckled, nodding in agreement. "How about you come rest?" he suggested. "You need another dose of herbs, for sure."

The mention of rest and medicine reminded Sedgepaw of her pain. It was much duller than before, but still present. If anything, she did need to rest her eyes. Scorchface's imprisonment and her conversation with Blueflower only exacerbated her fatigue. "That sounds perfect," Sedgepaw mewed.

"Very good." Redleaf turned to lead her to the medicine. Sedgepaw followed slowly. He glanced back at her as they walked. "What were you discussing so intensely with Blueflower?"

Sedgepaw frowned. She forgot how many eyes were in camp. They had to be careful. "Scorchface's execution," she mewed simply. "We were wondering who would be the one to slay her."

"Ah," Redleaf nodded. "Well, I'll be sure to tell you when I return. As medicine cat, I have to join the rest of the triad in these matters."

Redleaf's absence would make Sedgepaw's disappearance easier. Sneaking out under Heronpaw's nose alone would be better than trying to avoid the two of them. "Do you want to be there?"

"It doesn't matter. I have a duty."

Sedgepaw flinched at the sharpness in his tone. She needed to remember she was not speaking to Blueflower anymore. There was no sense in dancing around hypotheticals; it was a black and white world here, and those that hovered in the gray were doomed to join Scorchface in a shallow grave.

"And your duty is to rest and recover," Redleaf added, eyes narrow. "Now head on inside and don't speak such nonsense."

Obediently, Sedgepaw entered the den of marigold, and plopped in her nest where her pile of herbs was sitting on the side. Ingesting the bitter mixture, she gagged softly and curled up. However, sleep failed to grace her eyelids. She felt someone staring. She gazed into the shadows on the far side of the den, seeing a slight glint in the depths.  _Redleaf._  Sedgepaw needed to remember she was in the presence of a cat that knew of her destiny. One that could be hellbent on destroying her because of it. Paranoia ate away at her intestines like maggots would carrion; an odd cramp settled deep in her gut and she dry heaved.

Feeling dizzy, she stood from her nest, vomiting the herbs she just consumed. Redleaf seemed to materialize beside her in an instant. Sedgepaw felt her vision come and go, blurring and sharpening in a sickening pace. Her eyes rolled up to gaze at Redleaf, and she was able to discern his confusion as his frame multiplied in her dizzy fit.

"Sedgepaw, what happened?" Redleaf asked.

Shivering, she felt her nausea slowly begin to fade, and her vision returned. Though she felt weaker than before, she felt strangely relieved. Blinking slowly, she coughed, wanting the bitter taste of bile to leave her tongue. All she wanted now was some water. Her throat burned and her eyes were watering, and she craved something cool and wet to soothe her. Gazing down, she noticed Redleaf was hurriedly cleaning up the vomit by clumping it up in the dust into a foul-smelling pile. Sedgepaw narrowed her eyes in confusion when she noticed a small, strange flower smothered with the rest of the herbs in her poultice. Though the dirt and bile covering it clouded her sight, she could make out white petals in the cluster; she did not remember anything looking like that in her medicine before…

Sedgepaw felt ice crawl up her back to chill her spine. She eyed Redleaf suspiciously as he padded over to the herb store, where he scooped a sheathe from a palm tree trunk with his teeth, before rushing back to her side to scoop up her vomit. He did not wrinkle his nose nor bat an eye at the foul odor as he carried it out of the den to dispose of it properly. Sedgepaw sat quietly as he left, feeling ill for all the wrong reasons. Did Redleaf put something in her medicine to make her sick? Her eyes darted wildly around at the shadows of the den, and she began to feel like prey being held at bay.  _So, this is what fearing for your life feels like…_  She felt terrified in the presence of the oppressive marigold blooms and the fresh aroma of herbs; a scent that was normally meant to comfort ailing cats only tormented Sedgepaw.  _I can't even pray to StarClan right now._

However, there was one cat that Sedgepaw  _knew_  would care about her worries. Blueflower. Sedgepaw knew she could not go to her family with her concerns, they wouldn't understand. Ospreypaw would be too skeptical, of course, and Batface… he would definitely think she was mad.  _I have to get out of here tonight._

The sound of Redleaf's paws as he padded back to the medicine den stirred Sedgepaw from her worries. When he emerged from the outside, he had a ball of fresh moss in his jaws, and it dripped of fresh water. Sedgepaw parted her lips to taste the air; nothing about the moss seemed suspicious, and her dry mouth begged to be watered. She was silent as Redleaf dropped the moss by her nest.

"You're scared," he observed.

There was no point in disguising her fear, Sedgepaw let it emanate off her pelt, raw and vivid, as she sat in the medicine cat's presence. "I just don't like throwing up," she lied.

Nodding with understanding, the medicine cat nosed the moss closer. "Drink the water sparingly," he advised calmly. "It's okay to be scared. You've had a long day."

"Thank you," Sedgepaw mewed, voice hoarse.

Backing away from her, Redleaf returned to the side of the den where his nest and herb stores resided. He glanced back at Sedgepaw, and she met his stare. There was a wordless exchange between them, but Sedgepaw struggled to decipher its meaning. All she could think was,  _Game on._  Curling up in her nest, Sedgepaw felt like she was slowly coming to terms with the prophecy that was unknowingly unveiled to her by the medicine cat; she now had a greater suspicion of Redleaf's murderous intent than before. Her mind buzzed with wonder. If StarClan wanted her dead, why was she able to expel of the poison before it consumed her? Redleaf was well-adversed in herbs. There was no way he slipped up and let the strange, white flower make her sick on  _accident_. Perhaps StarClan  _was_  looking out for her? She snorted softly at the notion. As she dove down the rabbit hole of cosmic intervention, Sedgepaw felt herself grow even more confused than before.

What was her fate? Where did her destiny lay among the stars?

She rolled to her side in her bed, lazily lapping at the ball of moss beside her. She needed answers. Tonight, she would go with Blueflower in the cover of darkness; she just needed someone to talk to. Blueflower seemed like the only one willing to listen with unbiased ears.

As of right now, Sedgepaw was an enemy to the stars and the state. Her birth was an omen of doom. She broke the hallowed code twice in one day. If Sedgepaw was on track to die, she was hard charging. She smiled to herself. There was no point in fighting her fate; if StarClan, and by extension, her medicine cat wanted her dead, she was not going to go down easy.  _I am not afraid anymore. This is my life, and I'm going to live it no matter what the stars throw at me._


	9. Dance of the Fireflies

OPENING her golden eyes, Sedgepaw noticed the shadows had grown while she was sleeping. They consumed the den, leaving no trace of sunshine in their gloom. Outside the dense cluster of marigold, she heard the screech of frogs and song of crickets droning harmoniously through the air. It was nighttime. _Blueflower!_

Bolting upright in her nest, Sedgepaw glanced around wildly in the medicine den. How long was she asleep? Straining her ears to hear, she could decipher movement from the other side of the medicine den, and she could discern between two voices: Redleaf and Heronpaw. Sedgepaw immediately let her fur lay flat and relaxed her muscles. She was not too late. In fact, it seemed that she woke up just in time.

When Spiderfang poked his head into the den, he glanced around curiously. "Redleaf?" he called. His eyes fell on Sedgepaw and she offered a lopsided grin. "Oh, good evening, Sedgepaw."

"Hi," she mewed. "Redleaf's over on the other side of the den." She pointed with her nose toward the shadows beyond the herb store.

Nodding appreciatively, Spiderfang trotted over to the medicine cat. She could only hear a muffled exchange between the cats before all three of them emerged again. Redleaf was staring at his paws; he seemed distracted. Spiderfang led him out of the den, while Heronpaw watched them go from the archway of marigold. Sedgepaw narrowed her eyes when she noticed a particular gleam in Heronpaw's blue eyes.

"It'll be a long night," Heronpaw mewed grimly. His eyes flashed as they flickered to her. "Are you sorry you'll be missing out on the action?"

Sedgepaw knew what she should say, so she smirked and shrugged. "A little bit, but I'm sure this won't be the last time we catch Fallen on our land."

Heronpaw nodded quietly, mumbling to himself, "And so another cat meets their fate." He chuckled. "Such is life, hm, Sedgepaw?"

"Yeah, right…" She mewed uncomfortably. As the silence stretched between them, Sedgepaw began to fidget. "Can I go see everyone off?" she asked Heronpaw. "I'll be asleep by the time they come back."

"Do what you want." Heronpaw flicked his long tail dismissively. "I'm not a kitsitter. All I ask is that you return to your nest before moonhigh."

Nodding appreciatively, Sedgepaw hopped out of her nest and ran into camp. Out of the shelter of marigold, she realized how thick and heavy the air was with humidity. It clung to her fur, suffocating. She only now realized how close the rainy season was. She had grown accustomed to the cool nights of the dry season. Now, a storm could be on the horizon at any time.

Sedgepaw spotted her mentor, Batface, gazing at the night sky, searching. Beside him were the other sentinels returning from their watch to be relieved by the night party: Fernstream, Littlebrook, Mothfur, and Snakefang.. It was their duty to spend all day outside of camp, scouting for potential danger while the border was patrolled by different cats. Without them, foxes and coyotes and birds of prey could infiltrate and threaten those residing back in camp.

"Are you counting the stars?" Sedgepaw purred jokingly at her mentor.

He huffed, but his orange eyes gleamed with humor. "Cheeky apprentice. I should send you straight back to the medicine den."

Sedgepaw chuckled, nudging his scarred shoulder. "You'd miss me too much."

"Sedgepaw!" Fernstream's voice chirped from behind Batface. She was smiling softly as she gazed at Sedgepaw.

Fernstream hurried to her, purring loudly. Her pale brown fur smelled sweet, and it soothed Sedgepaw to be in her embrace. She did not realize how much she missed her mother's warmth until she had it again. Smiling against her mother's chest, she allowed a soft sigh to escape her. Ever since she saw her mother in the medicine den, looking hurt and frightened, but bravely standing up for her family before the one cat that had the power to take them all away, she longed to be close to her; Sedgepaw wanted to reassure her mother that everything would be okay, but she could not unveil her knowledge of the prophecy. It could only put Fernstream in more danger, Redleaf already tried to kill her once… The image of the mysterious white flower reappeared, and Sedgepaw's tongue withered at the memory.

"Fernstream," Sedgepaw muttered.

She could feel her mother tense. It was evident she detected something alarming in her voice. "What's wrong?" she demanded in a hushed whisper.

Sedgepaw leaned back, surprised by the deadly gleam in her mother's eyes as she protectively wrapped her tail around her. "I got sick in the medicine den," she mewed softly. Thankfully, Batface had the courtesy to turn his head away from their private discussion; Sedgepaw waited for her mentor to pad away towards the rest of the sentinels before she spoke again. "I think… Redleaf accidentally gave me the wrong medicine."

If anyone knew what that strange white flower was, Fernstream did. Sedgepaw played coy; she knew she only found out about her mother's past life as a medicine cat apprentice by eavesdropping. She needed to tread carefully over these next few words. One wrong step could land her in hot water.

"Why do you think that?" Fernstream asked, her voice gentle, but Sedgepaw could see the rigidness in her mother's frame.

"I threw up." Sedgepaw shuffled her paws nervously. Maybe mentioning this to Fernstream was a mistake? But I have to know. "In it… I saw a flower that I haven't seen before."

"What did it look like?" Fernstream pressed.

"It was small, with skinny white petals that looked kind of like fangs."

Fernstream was quiet as her eyes remained fixed on Sedgepaw's. She looked thoughtful, then distressed, then furious. The whirlwind of raw emotion in her mother's green eyes swept Sedgepaw up in a tempest of chaos. Her mother's reaction aloned confirmed Sedgepaw's greatest fear: it was no accident.

"Boneset." Her mother's whisper was so faint, Sedgepaw barely grasped the word.

Boneset? What is that? Sedgepaw stared at her mother quizzically. "Fernstream?" she prompted.

"It's nothing, Sedgepaw." Her emotions ebbed, and her face became neutral, if not pleasant, again. Fernstream managed a small smile, but it seemed hollow to Sedgepaw. "Redleaf has a lot of pressure on him; nobody is perfect."

"I know," Sedgepaw mumbled. She regretted mentioning anything to Fernstream; it only seemed to disturb her mother. After seeing how she was the other morning, she did not want to inflict more worry than she already had.

Fernstream rasped her tongue across Sedgepaw's cheek. "Don't worry about it. You're safe, that's all that matters." When she leaned back, Sedgepaw could see the fatigue in her mother's eyes. Her heart lurched.

"Are you tired?" Sedgepaw asked.

"A little. It was a hot day today, and with scouting being an all day affair…" She laughed softly. "It gets to you!" She smiled again, more genuinely this time, for Sedgepaw could see the creases at the ends of her lips. "I'll be fine. I just need a good night's sleep."

Sedgepaw nodded. The life of a warrior was no easy feat. There was no such thing as a day off. One either hunted, patrolled the border, acted as sentinel in the territory, or worked hard training apprentices. Before, Sedgepaw was thrilled by the idea of serving her Clan. Now, she was left wondering if she would even make it that far. Boneset… What could that be? Was it poison, or an accidental dosage?

"Fernstream!" Batface's yowl caught the attention of both Sedgepaw and her mother. Across the clearing, Batface was in a tight huddle with the other sentinels and the oncoming party.

"Looks like your relief is ready," Sedgepaw mewed, seeing Sandthroat, Longscar, Gingerstep, and Dewpelt shuffling impatiently. She brushed against her mother, purring. "I wager Batface wants you to be there for the debrief of your watch."

Fernstream sighed loudly, rolling her eyes. "You're probably right." She touched her nose to Sedgepaw's in farewell before trotting over to the gathered cats.

Watching her mother go, Sedgepaw felt a twinge of regret. If Fernstream did anything rash in reaction to Sedgepaw's worries, it would be her fault. She did not forget how fast Fernstream drew out her claws in reaction to Redleaf merely suggesting Sedgepaw and her siblings should not be alive; now, Sedgepaw implied that Redleaf may have made an attempt on her life. Her heart began to race. She could only hope that her mother would be rational. Sedgepaw's endeavor to gain more information on something as simple as an herb identification could be the nail in the coffin for her mother.

As the group of sentinels dispersed, Fernstream was the first to head for the warriors den; Sedgepaw watched her disappear into the shadows of the knotweed, pleased that her mother did not go straight to Redleaf to confront him. Sighing softly with relief, Sedgepaw was able to regain her composure before Batface hovered in her shadow. She whirled around to look him in the eye when he cleared his throat for her attention.

"Spiderfang met me when I returned and said you would probably be back to training tomorrow." A rare smile cracked across his scarred muzzle. "Apparently, Redleaf is astounded by your fast recovery and agreed to let you resume your apprentice duties."

"Really?! That's awesome!" Sedgepaw bounced on her toes, laughing excitedly. "I am finally out of that awful prison! Look out, MarshClan, Sedgepaw's back!" She was thrilled to be far away from the watchful eyes of Redleaf. She would be free.

"Well, I'm not convinced," Batface interjected sternly.

Sedgepaw froze. "You're kidding, right?"

"You took a serious fall, and no apprentice of mine is going to be training unless I am convinced you're capable of handling anything I throw at you." Batface's expression was grave. He was serious.

"Come on, Batface," Sedgepaw protested with a groan. "I'm dying to get back out there. Whitestar said my test was coming up soon; I have to be ready!"

"Do you doubt my ability?" Batface hissed.

Sedgepaw grunted, shaking her head grudgingly.

"I can assure you, no apprentice of mine has ever failed their final test; you will be no different." Batface pushed passed her, and Sedgepaw restrained the impulse to growl in frustration. "Tomorrow, you are to report to the elders den. There, you will study history and select your ancestor to present to the elders for your test."

There was no room to say no, for Batface was already stalking towards the warriors den. Sedgepaw frowned, her skin crawling with agitation. She was so close to freedom, yet so far. It's only one day, she reassured herself. Frowning, she turned and trotted toward the slowly growing group of cats that formed up before Whitestar. They were waiting impatiently alongside the wall of sawgrass that framed the end of camp, muttering to one another and shuffling against each other like a flock of pigeons.

Whitestar was talking with Spiderfang and Redleaf, her amber eyes burning brighter than the moon above. It was almost moonhigh, when the pale sphere was at its brightest and every star in the indigo sky could be seen. Soon, they would drag Scorchface away to meet her fate. Sedgepaw scanned the crowd of cats for the prisoner, spotting her wedged between her guards, Minnowtail and Egretsong; they looked uncomfortable to be so close beside the withered tortoiseshell. Egretsong in particular had dodgy eyes and her fur standing on end. Sedgepaw snorted. Scorchface wasn't so scary; the she-cat may have murdered in the past, but she was far from dangerous now. Skinny and frail, the prisoner looked more like a bag of bones than a cold-hearted killer. She may not even be a killer, Sedgepaw realized. Her conversation with Blueflower came to mind, and she looked at Scorchface with revived sympathy. The punishment for her crime was heavy; it would be a tragic waste of life if she was executed for a crime she did not commit.

"They'll be leaving soon." Blueflower's sweet scent preceded her soft voice. She was gazing at the crowd of cats while standing alongside Sedgepaw.

Sedgepaw jumped, startled by her sudden appearance. "Where'd you come from?"

Blueflower laughed. "I was talking briefly with Molefoot by the fresh-kill pile, then I saw you and came over." She returned her gaze to their Clanmates. "Tonight's the night."

"It's hard to believe this many cats would want to watch someone die," Sedgepaw murmured. She noticed all her fellow apprentices were among them. "The apprentices don't even really know who she is."

"Well, the majority of them are probably going because their mentors are." Blueflower gestured with her nose to Toadpaw. The stocky tom was rocking where he stood; his amber eyes were half-shut. "Toadpaw looks ready to fall asleep standing up. I seriously doubt her cares about what's going to happen."

Sedgepaw chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, and I'm sure Yewpaw is only going because Palemist made her." She found her sister in the crowd, eyes wide as the moon, as the other cats were jostling around her excitedly. "She wouldn't want to watch something like this."

"Whitestar loves making a show of 'wrongdoers' getting what they deserve." Blueflower's features darkened as she regarded their leader with a brooding stare. "There's no need to question your enemy's design when she paints them for you so distinctly."

"By all accounts, Scorchface is the enemy, though," Sedgepaw argued. She felt a worm of unease wriggle in her belly whenever Blueflower spoke ill of Whitestar. She wanted justice just as much as the next cat, but she also wanted to save her skin. "If she really was innocent, shouldn't she be fighting a little harder?"

In the distance, Scorchface swayed with the warm breeze that filtered through camp like a leaf. Even from afar, Sedgepaw could see the dimness in her amber eyes. The flame that once flickered was nothing but a small spark, struggling to keep its light against the howling wind of her accusers. Sedgepaw felt a pang of sympathy for the old cat. She was either a murderer so diabolical that she would stoop to kill her own daughter, or an innocent framed for the gorey demise of the she-cat she raised from birth. Whether the former or latter was true, she lived a hellish life.

"Giving up and letting go is harder than holding on," Blueflower mewed. "Scorchface must have a reason for staying quiet."

Even if Scorchface had a defense, it was too late. Whitestar rose her long tail for the attention of her Clan, and the gathered cats slowly quieted. Once she was satisfied with the silence, she spoke, "MarshClan, tonight we will have justice for our murdered Clanmate. StarClan's dominion has rung true, and They have brought us the perpetrator so that she may face her fate."

A pleased, harmonious roar erupted from the gathered MarshClan cats. Sedgepaw's pelt prickled with discontent as their eyes flickered in unison towards the prisoner, hungry and frenzied, ready to witness the bloodshed. Scorchface remained silent, but she rose her chin in defiance, prompting a disquieted hiss from Palemist. Sedgepaw could see the she-cat bristling within the crowd, blue eyes ablaze with hatred.

"The time has come," Whitestar continued. "Let us go forth and vanquish the Fallen for her crime and avenge Emberstorm!"

Raucous cheering erupted as Scorchface was hauled into the shadows of the sawgrass. Her disappearance was followed by the Warriors' Chant. Sedgepaw was familiar with the roaring beat, for she heard it once before in Snakefang's warrior ceremony. It was a proud war cry, which was repeated until it crescendoed with a shrill shriek that echoed through the swamp like a hawk's screech. Hearing it now was foreboding, and the bellows of the cats seemed to shake the earth with greater might than the fiercest of thunder rolls. She did not hear the quintescential shriek until the MarshClan cats were out of camp, deep into the swamp.

When silence took hold of the camp again, it was heavy. Sedgepaw could feel it constricting around her throat, squeezing out any prayer of speaking a word. Her tongue felt dry and was covered in bristles, as if it would hurt to speak. Not even a cricket could be heard. Someone was dying tonight.

The moon, almost in its full glory, bleached the camp with its silver shine. Everything around her seemed void of color, except Blueflower. The she-cat beside her only seemed to glow under the oppressive moonlight, and her eyes sparkled like the stars above, holding a blue so pure in their depths, Sedgepaw drank it in like it was her last drop of water. She was glad on a night so foul, she would be in the company of someone so fair.

"They should be far enough now," Blueflower murmured. "Do you still want to come with me?"

"Of course!" Sedgepaw replied, a bit too loudly. She chuckled nervously when she heard a grumble of protest from someone sleeping in the warriors den.

Blueflower laughed softly. "We haven't even left yet and you're going to blow our cover."

"Sorry, sorry," Sedgepaw whispered, ears flattened with embarrassment. "Uh, Heronpaw didn't really seem to care where I went. He was already heading off to bed when I came out of the medicine den." She decided to leave out the bit about having to be back by moonhigh; she did not want to risk spoiling their outing… especially if it meant she finally would have the freedom to say whatever she wanted.

Blueflower nodded before leading Sedgepaw towards the wall of sawgrass. In the dead of night, the tall, brittle stalks of grass seemed even taller, for their shadows stretched to engulf Sedgepaw, dimming her vision. As she followed Blueflower into the grasses, she relied on her sense of smell to guide her; Blueflower's sweet scent was like a light at the end of the tunnel as they ventured deeper and deeper into the dense forest of sawgrass and sugarcane. Brushing through the serrated stalks, Sedgepaw realized they were heading east, away from the palmetto grove.

The mud was thicker as they trekked onward. Sedgepaw only traversed this way during her initial induction as an apprentice, when she was introduced to every last inch of the territory. Before long, the mud was almost up to their shoulders, and Sedgepaw was struggling to push through; her long, thick fur only felt longer and thicker as peat began to clump her pelt into gooey mats. The stench of the bog violated her nostrils, and she glanced around wildly as she noticed Blueflower's scent becoming fainter. She could see movement a foxlength ahead and flopped desperately to catch up. All matters of pondweed and algae were made airborne in her scramble, littering her pelt with more vegetation than an old turtle's shell. By the time she reached Blueflower, she was gasping for air, eyes wide.

"Smoothe, careful movements make the navigation easier," Blueflower advised calmly. Sedgepaw felt her face grow hot when she saw the gleam of amusement in the warrior's blue eyes. "If you keep splashing like a fish out of water, you will tire yourself out, and draw unwanted attention."

"Right, sorry." Sedgepaw grunted, trying not to giveaway how out of breath she was.

After what seemed like moons, the mud slowly thinned into water. Sedgepaw's muscles could relax now that they waded through a pool that only came halfway up their legs, free of the murky bog that cushioned the surface before. Sedgepaw could see the rippling reflection of the moon, distorted by driftwood and leafage, at its brightest. Scorchface would be getting her throat slit right about now… Sedgepaw shivered. A constant hum of mosquitoes in her ears thankfully drowned out her imaginings of Scorchface's helpless gurgles as her lifeblood soaked the earth. The vision of Vinestripe returned, and Sedgepaw realized Scorchface probably wasn't the first to meet such a grisly end.

However, she could not let the thought haunt her for long, for Blueflower reached the shoreline. Unlike herself, she her pelt was sleek after getting rinsed by the pool. When Sedgepaw saw her step into the full gleam of the moon, she was glowing again. In contrast, when she stepped out of the pool and onto the shore beside her, she could feel the slimy concoction of pondweed and mud dripping from her pelt, sliding down her broad chest and shoulders like foul-smelling slugs.

"Did you want to bring the swamp as a souvenir?" Blueflower joked.

Sedgepaw would be bristling if her fur was not so waterlogged. "Ha, ha, you got jokes," she grumbled dryly.

Laughing, Blueflower sprang off from the shore, pushing passed the reeds and into the darkness. Sedgepaw rolled her eyes and lept after her, crashing through the fronds of cattails and broad, spade-shaped leaves of duck potato until she reached the foot of the cypress swamp forest. Nocturnal creatures could be heard grunting and rustling in its depths, and Sedgepaw stiffened when she realized she never went out this deep in the territory at night.

"We're almost there," Blueflower assured her.

Nodding quietly, Sedgepaw fell in behind the warrior as she led the way into the woods. A thick understory of ferns and and shrubbery greeted them, but when Blueflower ducked beneath the tangle of flora, Sedgepaw was surprised when she followed to see a tiny trail stamped out for them ahead. Lit by moonlight, the trail snaked through the cypress, leading deeper into the shadowy abyss. Sedgepaw was astounded by the beautiful collection of fetterbush, which were draped with their pink blossoms, and honey-bloom decorated with their white flowers, lining the trail.

"Twolegs used to follow this trail long ago back when Marshstar ruled," Blueflower murmured as they walked, side-by-side, down the path.

"Twolegs?" Sedgepaw echoed. She only ever heard stories about them. They were hard to imagine… upright-walking, furless creatures, that used their paws to grab and pull things… they didn't even have tails! "They left after the Great Storm, didn't they?" Sedgepaw was spooked by the thought of seeing one.

Blueflower nodded. "After the Great Storm, the path was almost lost to flooding and fallen trees, but overtime, it returned. So many cats have walked it that it could never be lost."

"Why are you showing me this?" Sedgepaw pressed, anticipation kneading at her, coaxing her impatience to stir. "What are you leading me to?"

"I want you to see the Starlit Springs before your test. I want you to see it for what it is, not what they want it to be," she explained.

Sedgepaw frowned, feeling more confused than before. Seeing the Starlit Springs before one's final test was frowned upon, but not forbidden. Leaders and medicine cats alike believed an apprentice should not interact with their ancestors before they were warriors, for their own safety. Sedgepaw heard of many young cats "spirited away" by their ancestors, disappearing into the spring, never to be seen again. To her, it seemed like just a tale used to scare kits.

However, as they drew closer to Starlit Springs, Sedgepaw felt her paws grow cold. Would her ancestors be decorated in their battle wounds like Vinestripe, or would they be made of stardust and moonlight? Her heart rattled against her ribcage like a startled bird when she realized meeting her ancestors meant she would be meeting StarClan… the very entity that prophesied her revolution, that warned against her and her littermates' birth. She froze in her steps, and Blueflower turned, concern alight in her blue eyes.

"Sedgepaw?"

"I don't think I can do this," she admitted. Her eyes were wide as moons. She knew beyond the ferns and myrtle bushes ahead waited her Deity. "I don't know if I'm ready."

Blueflower paused. The music of crickets and frogs sang between them, ringing in Sedgepaw's ears as she struggled to comprehend what lay ahead. She tail trembled. Suddenly, Blueflower was a mouselength away from her, breathing softly, staring at her with a small smile.

"You don't have to see," she mewed. "The Starlit Springs are as beautiful as they are dangerous. If you're mind and heart are vulnerable, you could be lost to Them. But… I feel like you would benefit from seeing this on your own accord, not with the pressure of your test."

Sedgepaw pondered. This was a risk and an opportunity. If StarClan did meet her at the springs, maybe they could explain what the prophecy meant. Sedgepaw gazed into Blueflower's eyes, and a sense of security bundled her pounding heart in a swathe of silk, slowing it to an even, steady beat.

"Okay," Sedgepaw muttered. "I'll go."

Nodding, Blueflower pushed through the undergrowth. Sedgepaw hesitated, waiting for a noise or a scent… anything that would tell her StarClan was there to greet her. Instead, she heard nothing but the cricket song, and smelled only the sweet scent of Blueflower. Inhaling deeply, she pushed through the shrubbery. Leaves flitted down at her paws, one catching a gentle breeze that carried it to the surface of Starlit Springs.

The ripple caused by the leaf's landing travelled across a crystal-clear river. Sedgepaw never witnessed such a translucent body of water in her life. She could see straight to the bottom, where sand as pale as moonlight rested amongst submerged boulders of porous stone speckled with patches of red algae and blue-green moss. Beautiful streams of eelgrass flowed gently along the sides of the spring like long, green bird feathers. On the surface, the faint reflection of the stars struggled to shine against the pellucid springs, and the moon glowed weakly at the surface.

"This is… beautiful," Sedgepaw murmured, breathless.

Blueflower nodded. "Sit still and be quiet now," she mewed. "You have to see this."

Sedgepaw became statuesque, fear emanating off her pelt as the ripple in the water ceased. A warm breeze caused the willow branches overhanging the bank to shudder, stirring the messy strands of moss at their claw-like tips. Then, a light, small and yellow, flickered above the spring. Sedgepaw's golden eyes widened. Another light appeared, flashing and vanishing. Then another, and another. Before long, an array of lights sparkled like tiny embers hovering over the spring shining for a heartbeat before dimming, only to return again. The lights took turns glowing, and the more Sedgepaw stared, the more they began to look like stars, materializing in thin air to dance above the water. She felt a lump in her throat as they bounced to a silent rhythm, shining harmoniously so that the water's surface was never robbed of their glow.

She glanced at Blueflower, and saw that her eyes mirrored her own in their sheer awe. She wanted to say something, but Blueflower shook her head silently, nodding to the lights. One seemed to drift away from the water, approaching the shore. Sedgepaw stiffened, seeing the light come closer, closer… Would it burn her?

She winced as the light blinked below her whiskers, shining on her face with a soft glow. Painless. Sedgepaw's eyes widened as more lights joined the first, surrounding her with their gentle flickers. They floated to Blueflower too, sparking and swirling around her blue-gray fur, highlighting every muscle and curve on her body. Sedgepaw was distracted by the warrior's beauty so much she did not even realize one of the lights landed on her nose. It tickled! She sneezed and watched the little piece of starlight twirl over her head.

Blueflower started laughing, and Sedgepaw could not help but join her. The lights remained despite the noise, silently pirouetting along the shoreline. Sedgepaw was at a loss for words.

"They're called fireflies," Blueflower whispered, smiling softly.

"Fireflies," Sedgepaw echoed in wonder.

"They shine like the stars, don't they?" Blueflower gazed across the spring, where more fireflies congregated in a crystalline ballroom beneath the moon, waltzing along the surface. "Legend has it, fireflies hold the souls of the lost, and when they blink, it is the lost soul calling for their brethren, longing to join them among the stars."

Sedgepaw became crestfallen, and suddenly the once light-hearted dance of the fireflies melted into a sorrowful display of wandering spirits. "That's so sad." Her ears perked with alarm. "Are the Fallen lost?"

"The Fallen are those lost souls, Sedgepaw," Blueflower clarified, her voice cracking with emotion. "They're trapped here. Away from the stars, forever. That's their fate, according to the medicine cats. Doomed to roam this blood-soaked earth until the end of time…"

"That's awful… What can we do?" Sedgepaw's voice was desperate, and her golden eyes scanned across the spring at all the fireflies quietly flickering. "Can we help them?"

"I don't know…" Blueflower's eyes were downcast. "I…"

Sedgepaw leaned closer, eyes softening. Gingerly, she pressed against Blueflower; though mud and weeds still clung to her thick fur, she could not help but try and comfort the warrior. She could feel Blueflower relax against her touch, and she felt a spark of warmth inside.

"It's okay… Thank you for showing me this."

Blueflower smiled, nodding. "Were you expecting to see StarClan?" she asked.

Sedgepaw laughed uncomfortably. "Yeah, actually. You had me thinking I would meet my maker." She was not sure if she felt more relieved or disappointed that the springs did not harbor StarClan; she wanted answers, but she also feared what They would say.

"Not all your ancestors are in StarClan, Sedgepaw," Blueflower mewed sadly. "Some still roam the earth… as spirits."

"You mean like… ghosts?" Sedgepaw scoffed. "Those are just scary stories the elders tell."

Blueflower shook her head. "No, it's true. Ghosts, spirits, whatever you wish to call them, they are the lost souls of our ancestors that did not make it to StarClan. They had their lives stolen from them, violently, and their violent end grants them a dismal eternity."

Sedgepaw glanced at the fireflies suspiciously. "How do you know so much about this stuff?"

When the warrior lowered her head, Sedgepaw frowned. Did she say something wrong? The vivid gleam of sadness in Blueflower's eyes was too obvious to ignore. She could see her features darken as her gaze flickered back to the Starlit Springs.

"My parents," she replied, her voice was heavy and saturated with solemnity. "Nettlefrost, my mother, would bring me here at night and tell me stories of MarshClan's past." Blueflower smiled fondly at the memory. "They were stories that Whitestar did not want us to know anymore. They were so grand! So many heroes and tales of victory, lost." Blueflower sighed heavily, her blue eyes glistening like the spring before them. "The knowledge of the fireflies… it is forbidden, but Nettlefrost always told me: 'to know the truth is the greatest power any warrior could ever have.'"

Sedgepaw pondered, her feathery tail swishing thoughtfully against the sandy shore. She knew Whitestar censored some stories of MarshClan's past, but only because she believed the historical accounts were inaccurate or watered down. Could it be she was burying pieces of history she did not want to believe? Scorchface's hisses from earlier made more sense now: You know nothing of the truth, that's why you wish to demonize all those that dare to scrutinize. Maybe Scorchface was right? Was Whitestar really trying to hide the truth? If so, why? Sedgepaw's head was reeling.

"Wait… You said Nettlefrost?" Sedgepaw realized that was one of the names Scorchface mentioned upon being brought to their camp. One of the names of other Fallen. "Scorchface mentioned her… Is… is she really?"

Blueflower smiled ruefully, nodding. "Yes, she is Fallen. As well as my father, Jayflight."

"What?! That… that's terrible." Sedgepaw felt pitiful. She could not even imagine having her parents pulled from her and banished. To be excommunicated, forever. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. You couldn't have known. I was 8 moons old at the time. Fernstream was still in the nursery, you were just a kit. Kits aren't allowed to watch trials."

Sedgepaw only felt more pathetic. She was not even able to understand how or why this happened to Blueflower. She was shielded from the madness of it, and Blueflower was left to bear the pain alone. She had no siblings like she did, and no other extended kin. Sedgepaw felt her heart rot out of her chest, falling from her to bleed on the ground for Blueflower.

"You don't need to blame yourself, and I don't need your sympathy," Blueflower mewed sternly, eyes flashing.

Sedgepaw stiffened. Were her emotions that readable? "I know." She leaned closer to Blueflower, sighing softly. "I just wish I could've been there for you."

"Well, you're here now." Blueflower's soft mew sent Sedgepaw floating off towards the stars, getting her head caught in the heavens as she felt the other she-cat's warmth mesh with her own like two flames meeting with a spark. "That's all that matters."

"I'm glad you told me about your parents, about the fireflies… everything." Sedgepaw's voice rolled deep from her chest with appreciation.

"It's nice to have someone to talk to." Blueflower's voice was lighter now. "My parents were condemned for spreading the truth, but I promised them I would not stop just because they had to." She was gazing at the fireflies as she spoke, eyes glazed over. "I'm not afraid of Whitestar… I'm afraid of failing them."

"You couldn't fail them… you're too good." Sedgepaw fumbled for the right words to say. Her tongue went limp, becoming nothing more than a useless piece of flesh.

"I'm not very well liked in MarshClan," Blueflower admitted. "There are some that suspect me of carrying out my parents' work. That's why I am not ever allowed in the nursery and why I will probably never get an apprentice."

"Is… is that why you-uh-don't have a mate?" Sedgepaw's face felt hot.

Blueflower giggled, shaking her head. "Probably," she teased.

Sedgepaw felt weirdly happy that no warriors were interested in Blueflower because of her lineage. Though she was astounded as to why anyone would deny her. She was not sure what to make of the bubbling emotions inside of her. They boiled and brewed, threatening to burst like a geyser whenever Blueflower looked her way. Sedgepaw felt immensely awkward and hyper-aware of Blueflower's closeness as the silence between them grew.

"We should probably head back to camp," Blueflower decided.

Sedgepaw bolted to her paws, causing the fireflies to scatter. "Right! I almost forgot… I'm supposed to be 'healing' right now."

Laughing, Blueflower headed for the trail. "Come on, before you're missed."

Sedgepaw hopped after the warrior, breaking through the undergrowth, only to crash into her from behind. The warrior was frozen in her tracks, and standing before her was a dark gray tabby tom. A scar marred his pelt, causing it to rumple, stretching from beneath his jaw and across his flank to his hind. Longscar. Sedgepaw remembered he was on sentinel duty.

The warrior curled his lip, yellow eyes burning bright. "And what are you lot doing up at this time?"

Blueflower took a step forward, giving Sedgepaw a meaningful glance. "I went to look for Sedgepaw; I was going to bring her a ball of moss to keep by her bed and saw she was gone."

Longscar's eyes flashed to Sedgepaw, and the apprentice lifted her chin defiantly. She did not like the suspicious glare in his eyes. So this is what Blueflower meant…

"Is that the way of it?" Longscar demanded.

Sedgepaw nodded. "I wanted to sneak out and watch the execution," Sedgepaw lied, shuffling her paws guiltily. "But I got lost."

A long pause stretched between the cats, and Longscar's eyes were focused on Blueflower. Sedgepaw had seen a snake before, and that unblinking, hateful stare was not much different from Longscar's right now. The warrior finally relented after Sedgepaw felt like her heart was going to burst out of its ribcage.

"Very well," he grumbled. "I'll be showing you both back to camp."

"That's not necessary-" Blueflower was interrupted by a frustrated hiss from Longscar.

"It was not an offer!" His fangs flashed as he growled. "Scorchface escaped…"

Sedgepaw's eyes widened in shock. Scorchface escaped? How?

"What do you mean?" Blueflower pressed.

"I mean exactly what I said," Longscar snapped. "Scorchface somehow evaded her execution. The entire camp is on high alert, and almost the entire Clan is sweeping the territory in search of her." A dissatisfied grumble escaped him. "And what do I find? You two." The warrior shook his head as he led them through the woods. "It'll be a long night, that's for sure. Whitestar's out for blood. StarClan help the cat that gets caught in her warpath."

Blueflower brushed against Sedgepaw as they walked alongside one another. Sedgepaw shivered, feeling someone staring at her. When she turned, Sedgepaw thought she saw a flash of amber eyes hidden in the dense undergrowth. She froze. Could it be?

"Apprentice," Longscar hissed. "Did you forget how to walk?"

The amber eyes were unblinking as Sedgepaw started, and when she turned back to Longscar, all she could think of were the dancing fireflies. "No, Longscar!" she called back. "I'm coming."


	10. Doppelgänger

PANDEMONIUM sunk its fangs into MarshClan camp, injecting a venom so potent it sent the cats within scattering like mice with their eyes wide and tails raised. A murderer was on the loose. When Sedgepaw set foot back in camp, she immediately retracted her step, for her eyes and ears were assaulted by all manners of chaos; the clamor of cats practically foaming at the mouth to ensure their kits, queens, and elders were unharmed was at war with the heinous, angry hisses of warriors gathered in search parties, chomping at the bit to find and kill the escaped prisoner. The ripe, acrid scent of fear was so potent it seemed to soil the pelt of every cat in MarshClan.

"I doubt we were missed," Blueflower whispered to her.

The warrior was right. When Longscar successfully escorted her and Blueflower back, not one cat seemed to bat an eye at their reappearance. Perhaps Scorchface's escape was a blessing in disguise?

"I'll see to it your mentor knows of your shenanigans," Longscar growled. Sedgepaw met his glare defiantly. The warrior went on, his lip curled back to reveal thorn-sharp teeth, "It's a curious thing that an apprentice so close to their final test would be so poor at tracking."

"What are you-"

Longscar did not allow Sedgepaw to finish her hiss. "To go in the complete _opposite_ direction of the execution sight… Curious indeed." His voice was laced with suspicion, and its toxicity caused even Blueflower to start bristling beside her.

Before either of the she-cats could get a word in, the dark gray tabby stormed off; his scar glistened eerily in the moonlight as he passed them by, heading towards Snakefang and Otternose, where they were assembling a search party.

"That was a close one," Blueflower murmured. The warriors eyes flickered to Sedgepaw. "I could speak in your defense to Batface tomorrow if you'd like?" she offered. Her ears drooped. "I really do apologize for this, Sedgepaw; I did not think our night would end this way."

Sedgepaw shrugged her broad shoulders. "Honestly? This was the most fun I've had in awhile. So what if Batface scorns me?" She laughed heartily. "It wouldn't be the first time." Golden eyes glowing, she nodded to the warrior. "You've done more than enough for me already. Don't worry about Batface tomorrow."

Blueflower's smile was so wide the corners of her almond-shaped eyes wrinkled. "Goodnight, Sedgepaw," she whispered softly.

As the warrior left for her den, Sedgepaw watched her, heart soaring. Despite the madness surrounding her, she felt like she was soaked in a bath of milk and honey, happily drowning in the sweet sound of Blueflower's voice. "Goodnight," she rasped, seeing Blueflower disappearing behind the plumegrass and knotweed.

Trotting across the clearing, Sedgepaw made a speedy retreat for the medicine den, hoping none of the agitated warriors would spot her. By sheer luck, she made it to the fortress of marigold, only to be greeted by the putrid odor of fresh blood. Fur standing on end, Sedgepaw hissed in surprise when a bloodchilling screech echoed from the depths of the shadows. Under the slivers of moonlight shining through the roof, Sedgepaw could see a cream and white pelt, splattered with blood. The body flailed like a worm being attacked by a swarm of ants, and the cry sounded unearthly, it could cause even the sturdiest of oaks to shake in their roots.

"Egretsong?" Sedgepaw wondered, recognizing her scent.

Heronpaw was hovering over the she-cat, his eyes glazed over. His paws worked at a poultice, which was ground into the dirt. All around, herbs were scattered and tossed onto the ground. Blood dripped from the golden petals of marigold, looking like black ink droplets in the dark. Redleaf was standing over Egretsong, bracing her body with his own as she struggled against him.

"Hurry, Heronpaw," Redleaf pressed. "Her bleeding won't stop."

"I'm trying, I'm trying," Heronpaw hissed through gritted teeth. His lanky, blue-gray body impeded Sedgepaw's sight of Egretsong. "This fennel won't crush right." His knuckles mashed and rubbed into the seeds, his teeth were bared in frustration.

Sedgepaw could see the gleam of concern in Redleaf's golden eyes as Egretsong flailed again, her body convulsing as pain wracked through her muscles.

"It burns!" she wailed. "It burns!"

Sedgepaw took a step closer. The scent of blood only became more overpowering as time passed.

"Can you get her to shut up?" Heronpaw snapped.

"Heronpaw, please, just focus on the remedy."

Sedgepaw stepped even closer. Redleaf gunted as Egretsong batted her paw at his chin, wriggling and seizing. She never before saw a warrior overcome with such pain.

"I can't see!" Egretsong cried. "Oh, StarClan, I can't see!" She wailed, making Sedgepaw's fur turn white with fear. "Help! Oh, StarClan, help me!"

When Heronpaw bent over to try and apply the sticky poultice to Egretsong, he revealed the warrior's face. Sedgepaw's stomach flopped like a fish in her belly. Egretsong's face was covered in blood, and the blood came from her eyes. Her sockets were thatched with scratches so deep, Sedgepaw could decipher the new ridges in her once golden eyes; they were rippled and gushed with a gelatinous fluid and scraps of bloody red flesh. Red rivulets trickled into her mouth, so when she wailed and cried, her voice gurgled.

"Hold her still!" Heronpaw hissed.

As Redleaf calmly shushed and coddled Egretsong, Heronpaw applied the poultice to her eyes. Egretsong jerked her head back and yowled, knocking Redleaf's chin with her head. The medicine cat looked up from his ailing patient to see Sedgepaw, and the apprentice stiffened.

"Sedgepaw," he hissed. "You should probably stay in the apprentices den tonight." He grunted as Egretsong began to shiver and contort against his chest. "It's probably going to be like this all night." The gravelly rasp in his voice betrayed his fatigue.

Without thinking twice, Sedgepaw backed out of the medicine den. She scurried across the camp to a small den composed of primerosewillows and butterfly bush nearly six foxlengths in height, which blossomed with vibrant purple blooms that hung from the branches to create an arch of flowers around the entrance. Stepping within, she saw all the apprentices were already tucked away in bed. Of course none of them would be hunting down Scorchface, the mission was too risky for untrained cats. She was comforted by the sight of her comrades, curled into tight balls of fur in their nests. She spotted Yewpaw and Mudpaw sleeping side by side. Only one nest of moss remained empty: hers. It was wedged between Yewpaw and Ospreypaw, looking too fluffy with extra bird feathers and moss to be something anyone slept in for the last few days. They kept it neat for her.

Smiling contentedly, Sedgepaw set foot in her nest, curling up and wrapping her thick tail over her paws and nose. She was able to erase the sight of Egretsong's gouged out eyes by letting her mind drift to Blueflower's smile and the way the fireflies glowed against her body. Laying in her nest, she imagined Blueflower sleeping beside her, and she felt safe. It was only when Yewpaw stirred that Sedgepaw remembered she was in the apprentices den. Glancing at her sister, she blinked in surprise when she saw the glint of her verdant eyes.

"Yewpaw, you're still awake?" she whispered.

Her sister was quiet.

"Yewpaw?"

When Yewpaw glanced at Sedgepaw, she could see the sadness glistening in her eyes. Sitting up, she rasped her tongue across her sister's head, comforting her quietly. Yewpaw snuggled closer to her, sighing shakily.

"What happened?" Sedgepaw asked, pressing her nose to her cheek.

"I'm just… scared. It all happened so fast." Yewpaw's voice quivered like a leaf in the wind. "We were marching through the swamp… and then someone noticed Minnowtail, Egretsong, and Scorchface were missing. We-we spread out, and I was with Palemist."

Sedgepaw pressed closer, hoping her scent and warmth would soothe her sister.

"W-we found Egretsong in time… but Minnowtail…" Yewpaw's voice failed her.

"What happened to Minnowtail?" Sedgepaw pressed.

Yewpaw was shivering, shaking her head. "He was murdered."

Sedgepaw recoiled in shock, eyes wide. "How did Scorchface manage to take them both?"

"I-I don't know," Yewpaw whimpered, shaking her head. She trembled violently.

"Maybe you should see Redleaf?" Sedgepaw suggested. "You're pretty shaken up."

"No!" Yewpaw hissed. "I don't want to see Egretsong… I don't want to think about what she went through. And Minnowtail."

Sedgepaw found it hard to believe Scorchface was able to take on two young, strong warriors alone. Her thoughts flickered to the pair of amber eyes she saw along the trail to Starlit Springs. Maybe she should have said something? Guilt wedged its way into her heart, making her chest hurt. She tried to convince herself it was an illusion. Those eyes weren't real. They did not belong to Scorchface. Sedgepaw draped her foreleg over Yewpaw, hugging her close as she began to sob softly. Is this my fault? she wondered. Unable to keep her thoughts flowing straight, Sedgepaw fell victim to sleep. She was devoured by darkness.

When Sedgepaw's eyes opened again, she was standing before the Starlit Springs. She heard whispers, and they hissed in her ears the pleasure of the water's touch. The voices slowly became omnipresent, welcoming Sedgepaw into the depths of the bubbling spring, for within its crystalline abyss was a life without pain... Smiling whimsically, she was drawn to touch its pristine surface, dipping her white toes into the water. At her touch, the water around her paw became effervescent and a strangle gurgling noise sounded from the lips of the water's ripples.

Narrowing her eyes, Sedgepaw noticed the spring was turning red, and the scarlet stains were seeping from her own paw. Yanking her foreleg back, she hissed in shock. She inspected her paw, gasping when she saw it was dripping with blood, and it was not her own. Sedgepaw backed away in a panic, gasping for air. Her scrambled pawprints in the sand were also bloody. She began to wheeze for air, eyes darting wildly for the body the blood belonged to. All she could see was her reflection in the spring, and it gazed at her, cool and apathetic while she fervently scanned the shore.

Sedgepaw's breathing slowed, but still shook when she gazed into her reflection in the spring. Her golden eyes glowed with a sinister emotion she was a stranger to. Her jaw was bloodstained, and when she raised her paw to reach out for her reflection, blood was dripping from her claws. She splashed the water, disturbing the mirror image of herself and began to back away.

The reflection followed.

Stepping out of the springs, Sedgepaw's doppelgänger was waterlogged. Her sodden fur left droplets against the sand, and her white chest and paws were stained red. A malignant aura seemed to hover over the reflection, turning every inch of her frame a shade darker, like a shadow.

"Who are you?" Sedgepaw demanded the entity.

It mimicked her voice, but sounded more shrill, with an ethereal echo to her tone. "Who are you?"

Brows furrowing, Sedgepaw hissed and shook her head. "I'm Sedgepaw… and you're... not real." _This has to be a dream,_ she thought.

"I'm Sedgepaw," the being repeated, her bloody lips smacking as she spoke. A twisted smile broke the entity's stony features, revealing red-stained teeth. "Heed my words: keep your eyes on the blood red horizon. When the scarlet sun falls and bleeds on the earth, we rise."

"We rise?" Sedgepaw pressed. "Rise for what?!"

As the vision slowly began to fade away, a roll of thunder drowned out the final wisps of the words she spoke. Sedgepaw reached for the almost translucent image of herself, but when she touched it, the being vanished in a whirl of wind. It howled into her ears sounding more and more like a scream as it buffeted against her. Before long, she was wailing with it.


	11. Seven Devils

BURSTING from her nest, Sedgepaw glanced around the apprentices den with wide eyes. It really was a dream, she realized.

Breathing heavily, Sedgepaw flinched as another bout of thunder rocked the sky, causing the den to tremble. She noticed none of the other apprentices were in their nests. I'm late! Launching from her mossy bedding, Sedgepaw stepped outside, and she was greeted with a drop of rain on her nose. Thick, gray clouds shrouded the sky, looking ready to burst with rain. Without the warm, golden glow of the sunlight, the camp seemed vapid. Cats milled about slowly, keeping to the cover of the flora that framed camp as raindrops gradually began to fall.

Sedgepaw noticed the other apprentices sitting quietly outside the den, formed up in a neat line. Feeling a jolt of dread, Sedgepaw took a seat beside Toadpaw, hoping she did not miss the morning muster. Only a few heartbeats passed before Sedgepaw spotted Shaleheart making his way across the clearing towards them.

"Good morning, apprentices," Shaleheart mewed. His yellow eyes scanned down the line, counting. "Glad to see everyone is present this morning." A frown cracked his maw. "As you all probably know, MarshClan is on high alert after the events that occurred last night. So, today, the apprentices will he kept in camp."

A collective groan sounded from the apprentices, save for Sedgepaw. Batface already told her the night before she would not be getting any training outside camp today. Instead, she would be getting a history lesson. She rolled her eyes at the thought. When Shaleheart's expression became more serious, she righted her posture.

"We have yet to find Minnowtail's body," Shaleheart went on, his tone was grim. "But due to the amount of blood on the scene and the fact he remains missing leads us to believe he was murdered last night. Until either Egretsong recovers from shock well enough to tell us what happened or a corpse turns up, MarshClan warriors will focus on finding our Clanmate."

The apprentices all nodded in agreement, and many of their faces were crestfallen. Sedgepaw did not know what to feel. Minnowtail never made himself known to her, or anyone for that matter; he was always very quiet. He only seemed to talk to Vinestripe. Still, Sedgepaw felt a twinge of sadness for her missing Clanmate.

"Batface suggested to the mentors today that the apprentices should report to the elders den to learn about Clan heritage," Shaleheart continued. "For the senior apprentices preparing for their test, you will be expected to choose your leader to present today."

"Ah, great." Toadpaw began blubbering beside Sedgepaw. "I am gonna fail…" he grumbled.

Shaleheart raised his tail for silence, and the apprentices stopped muttering to one another. "You are dismissed. Report to the elders immediately."

As the apprentices shuffled away, heads lowered with mumbles of discontent emanating from their crestfallen faces, Sedgepaw was stopped by Shaleheart. She huffed, not in the mood to be talking to her father, or anyone for that matter; her disturbing dream still hummed in her head, befuddling her thoughts and plucking at her nerves. The message she was given at the end… was that some sort of prophecy?

"You look a little rough this morning," he teased, plucking a scrap of moss from her shaggy pelt with his claw. "Rough night?"

"Yeah, couldn't sleep," Sedgepaw muttered, avoiding his gaze.

"Well, I suggest you take a moment to groom yourself. Cypressfang will not be impressed," Shaleheart advised.

"He's never impressed."

"Give him a reason to be," Shaleheart countered, brows furrowed. "Your test is coming up. Maybe show off what you know?"

Sedgepaw sucked her teeth, shrugging Shaleheart off as he tried to pluck at another piece of moss. "You just want me to make you look good," Sedgepaw argued. "I don't care about what he thinks… You do."

Pushing passed her father, she trotted across the clearing with her head low. She stole a glance at the warriors den as she went by, hoping to catch a glimpse of Blueflower, but it seemed empty. Growing more disgruntled with each step, by the time she was at the face of the elders den, she looked like she swallowed a piece of carrion. The musty scent wafting from the mouth of the den made her nose wrinkle.

"Hey, Sedgepaw!"

Glancing in the direction of the chipper voice, Sedgepaw spotted Foxkit bouncing up from the nursery. His dark ginger fur looked darker under the gloomy light. Followed behind him were two smaller kits, still round and fluffy with their kit fur, and their eyes were a bright blue still. She knew the little white she-cat was Magnoliakit. Bumbling behind her was a tom with brown tabby fur that was made sparse by massive white splashes, Hawthornkit.

Foxkit hopped to Sedgepaw's side, smiling smugly. "Guess what?"

"What?" she grunted.

"Jasminefur and Hollyfoot let me bring Magnoliakit and Hawthornkit to the history lesson today!"

"Oh, cool," Sedgepaw muttered, unenthused. She was too tired to share Foxkit's energy. Instead, she just envied it.

Magnoliakit and Hawthornkit bumped into one another as they waddled after Foxkit. Sedgepaw eyed them as the passed to enter the elders den. She snickered when Magnoliakit kept glancing back to stare at her with wide eyes, curious. When Hawthornkit looked back at her, he stuck his tongue out in her direction tauntingly.

"I'm gonna get you for that!" she teased, making the young kits squeal as she play-chased them into the den. The kit bounced after Foxkit, laughing, and Hawthornkit tried to jump on Sedgepaw's broad shoulder as she barged into the den, snickering.

Before long, all the kits were squealing and jumping on Sedgepaw and she had no choice but to bowl over with an exaggerated groan. The kits started laughing as she prodded at them gently. She noticed Foxkit's fur traded its fluff for a sleek sheen as he crawled onto her belly, joining in on the fun. It would not be long before he would be apprenticed.

"Ahem." Cypressfang cleared his throat, standing over Sedgepaw and the kits with a brow quirked. "I'm sorry," he grumbled. "I didn't know we were hosting playtime this morning."

Sedgepaw froze as Hawthornkit continued to chomp on her ear, she crooked her head to smile sheepishly at the elder, her grandfather. His green eyes were unimpressed as she sat up, shaking blades of grass and pieces of moss from her long fur. Magnoliakit and Foxkit were still as statues, staring at their paws guiltily. She laughed nervously as Hawthornkit started headbutting her side and growling playfully, blissfully unaware of Cypressfang's nonexistent patience. She shooed Hawthornkit away with her paw until he gave up with a pout.

"My apologies, Cypressfang. I started it. They came here to learn, and so did I." Sedgepaw bowed her head.

"You could do a better job of showing it." Cypressfang's green eyes flitted to the kits, and he sighed. "I would hope you'd want to set a better example for the kits of MarshClan."

"But—" Sedgepaw was unable to get a word in, for Cypressfang was already leading the kits into the deeper confines of the den. She hissed underneath her breath.

In the heart of the elders den, the apprentices sat, surrounded by the elders that lay in their nests. The grasses of the den's walls were dense and now air or sunlight filtered through. It was suffocatingly warm in the center, but thankfully there were breaks in the roof of ivy and jasmine vines that allowed fresh air from the outside the whistle in. The rain that started to patter more consistently now was reflecting by the vines, which diverted the water to the soft rush and bulrush that composed the bulk of the elders den. If not for the scent of fresh rain, Sedgepaw would have to suffer the musty odor of the elders.

"Oh, my!" Larkwing perked up when he saw the kits padding in behind Sedgepaw. "Jasminefur let you to come out to see your grandpa today?"

Magnoliakit and Hawthornkit ran up to the elder, bouncing and chirping all kinds of nonsense about their games of moss ball and the butterfly they found the other day.

Owleyes smiled as she watched the kits talk, taking a break from grooming Larkwing's ears. "Our daughter isn't holding them hostage, Larkwing," she scorned softly.

Their reunion was cut short when Cypressfang emerged. His dark brown tabby fur looked almost black in the dim lighting of the elders den. His green eyes flickered to the gathered apprentices, and he gave an unimpressed sniff.

"How about we get started then?" Cypressfang nodded to Russetnose, and the old, shaggy tom sat up from his best shakily with a yawn. He nudged at Vervainclaw, but the pale silver elder remained asleep, grunting in annoyance.

"Leave him be," Owleyes chided. "We can do this lesson without him."

"Fine," Cypressfang growled, shrugging his broad shoulders irritably. "Would the senior apprentices announce which leader they are intending on presenting?"

"I'll be presenting Blazingstar," Blackpaw piped up.

"And I'll be presenting Brightstar," Yewpaw mewed.

Sedgepaw realized the apprentices seemed to be going down the line, since Blackpaw started. Thankfully she was at the end. She had no idea which leader she would focus on for her test. She started rolling through her memories for names.

"I've chosen Hemlockstar." Ospreypaw's voice was serious as ever.

"U-uh… I'll do… Amberstar?" Mudpaw mumbled.

"Is that a question or a statement?" Cypressfang pressed.

"N-no. I mean. Yeah? I'm doing Amberstar." Mudpaw nodded firmly, his smiling giving away his uncertainty.

"I'll do Marshstar." Toadpaw smiled goofily as he spoke.

Damn! That's what I wanted… Sedgepaw shuffled her paws nervously. All eyes were on her. When Cypressfang approached her, she felt her face get hot with embarrassment.

"I recognize that blank stare," Cypressfang murmured. "Your father makes the same one when he has no idea what to say. It seems two of my kin cannot gather their thoughts today." Shaking his head, Cypressfang continued, his voice condescending, "You have no idea which leader to pick, do you?"

Gritting her teeth, Sedgepaw looked Cypressfang in the eye and shook her head. "No, I do not," she admitted grudgingly.

"Well, it's not the end of the world!" Owleyes interjected. "Maybe one of your peers can suggest one for you?"

It was Lilypaw who piped up next. She was sitting at the far end of the den beside Russetnose and Pebblepaw. "How about Darkstar? Or Eveningstar?"

"M-maybe Bleakstar or Smallstar?" Pebblepaw suggested meekly.

"Look at this, even novice apprentices have a handle on their heritage," Cypressfang observed. His voice was just loud enough for Sedgepaw to be the only one to hear. "How does it feel to be put to shame by your juniors?"

She glared at him, fur starting to prickle. Before she could make a snide remark, Yewpaw mewed, "Do Lightningstar."

"Ah, now there's a hero! One of the grandest leaders in our past!" Larkwing praised.

The name sounded cool enough. Sedgepaw nodded to her sister thankfully. "Okay, Lightningstar then."

"Very well," Cypressfang rumbled. He nodded to Blackpaw. "Let's begin, tell me what you know of Blazingstar."

"Blazingstar, the seventh leader of MarshClan," Blackpaw began, rattling off all her knew fervently, "He was known for creating the Warrior Code we have today. He was preceded by Hazestar, and succeeded by his deputy Fadedpetal, who become Fadedstar. It was during his rule that raiders first appeared on MarshClan territory."

Cypressfang nodded. "Very good." His eyes narrowed as he searched Blackpaw's face for uncertainty, he found none. Sedgepaw could see the apprentice's smug grin from all the way down the row. "Who was the medicine cat that appointed him?" Cypressfang went on, quirking a brow. "And why?"

"He was appointed by…" Blackpaw trailed off, hissing softly as his answer evaded him.

"Olivebranch was medicine cat at the time," Cypressfang pointed out. "She appointed him deputy after Hazestar was killed by raiders."

"What is a raider anyway?" Magnoliakit peeped, blue eyes wide with wonder.

"They're bad cats, Magnoliakit," Larkwing replied gently. "They were outsiders. Raiders tried to steal from our land, and they killed many of our warriors in fights for food and water. They even murdered our medicine cat, Dovecloud, which forced Olivebranch to take his place only a moon after being recognized by StarClan."

"Remember that for your test," Cypressfang grunted. Blackpaw nodded, appearing disgruntled. Cypressfang's green eyes slid to Yewpaw and softened. "Now, tell us about Brightstar."

Yewpaw smiled and nodded. "Brightstar, the fourth leader of MarshClan, is considered to be one of the greatest leaders of our past. Uhm… She ruled after Darkstar fell to a plague that almost wiped out MarshClan. There were so many sick and weak cats that Nightshade, the medicine cat, was running out of candidates to choose. Brightstar was one of the few healthy warriors left, so she was selected for leadership."

Sedgepaw was surprised by how confident Yewpaw sounded. Her words poured from her mouth effortlessly as she recited each factoid with ease. Envy pricked her pelt as she eyed her sister from afar.

"She helped Nightshade find a remedy for the illness. She spent many sleepless nights providing for her Clan, especially after Nightshade also fell to the plague… leaving young Dovecloud with a heavy burden. After the epidemic ceased, her rule was long and peaceful. She died of old age and was succeeded by Stormstar, previously named Stormscar." Yewpaw held her chin high when the elders gave a unanimous purr of appreciation.

"Well done!" Cypressfang rumbled. "I'm very impressed." His grizzled mug actually harbored a grin, and Sedgepaw could hardly believe her eyes; her grandfather never smiled at her like that. When Cypressfang craned his head to Ospreypaw, his smile faded. "And you?"

Straightening her back, Ospreypaw held her head high as she became the center of attention, "Hemlockstar, the twelfth leader of MarshClan, is considered to be the leader that completely rid our land of raiders forever." The unanimous nod from the elders encouraged her to continue, "His tactics were controversial, however, because he not only ambushed the raiders' tribe and left no survivors, but ordered all kits and apprentices of mixed blood to be executed-"

"Wait! No! Stop!" Cypressfang interrupted. His green eyes blazed, and his fur was standing on end. "We do not speak of that anymore. Whitestar ordered those details to be archived."

"But, wait, why?" Ospreypaw's yellow eyes were wide, bewildered.

"Just say he 'purified our land,' honey," Owleyes corrected gently. "This was a recent mandate; Whitestar only notified us a few days ago. You couldn't have known."

"It makes your presentation shorter anyway," Russetnose chimed in, making a "guffaw" of laughter. He shook his shaggy pelt. "It's for the best, I think. Those stories of Hemlockstar always spooked me as a kit."

"Yeah, I'm pretty spooked!" Magnoliakit chirped.

"What's spooked?" Hawthornkit mewed, head tilted.

"Ah, moving on," Cypressfang grunted, nodding to Ospreypaw.

"Right, uhm… Hemlockstar was preceded by Murkstar, who was also his mentor. Murkstar was the first to adopt the practice of invading the raiders' land and killing-"

"Stop!" Cypressfang interrupted. "We don't speak of that either."

"Say: 'Murkstar inspired Hemlockstar as his mentor and predecessor.'" Owleyes' mew was sympathetic.

"O-okay," Ospreypaw murmured, voice shaking.

Sedgepaw could see her friend's confidence fading. She clearly prepared well for this presentation, but she was being corrected left and right. Sedgepaw realized the gravity of Blueflower's fight to preserve history. She did not know how much and how far Whitestar was going to sanitize MarshClan's past. Blueflower's parents were fighting against this… and they got exiled for it. Sedgepaw suddenly felt nauseous. How much of what she knew was true?

"Hemlockstar was inspired by Murkstar, his mentor and predecessor, who fell to the claws of a raider." Ospreypaw's voice slowly became more resonate as she continued, "He was succeeded by Bleakstar, formerly Bleaksky. The medicine cat that placed him in power was named Twistedshadow."

"Decent job," Cypressfang grumbled. "Now, Mudpaw, let's hear it."

"Amberstar!" Mudpaw exclaimed, standing up as he exploded with energy. "Yeah! She was cool… Uh." He sat back down, shrugging. "I just know she was super religious."

Shaking his head, Cypressfang gave an exasperated exhale. "Amberstar, the fourteenth leader of MarshClan, was the first to coin the moniker "Fallen" for MarshClan cats that failed to abide by our laws and StarClan. She was preceded by Bleakstar and succeeded by her deputy, Thornface. The medicine cat that granted her leadership was Crowtalon."

"A-ah, right, got it." Mudpaw smiled sheepishly. "I'll be sure to remember all that for my test."

"You better," Cypressfang warned gruffly, "or I will fail you." His piercing gaze flickered to Toadpaw, and the stocky apprentice flinched as if the glare stabbed him. "Toadpaw, you're next."

"U-uh, right. Uhm. Marshstar, the first leader of MarshClan…" Toadpaw tapped his foot on the ground, his wide-set eyes began to wander as he pondered. "Before he became leader, he was known as Sootbreeze. He came from the Clans Beyond the Horizon, searching for a better life. When they found the marsh and Mother Lake, Ashbreeze knew they found their home. He took the name Marshstar, named after MarshClan, when he was blessed with nine lives at the Lunar Cavern."

"Who did he come with?" Cypressfang asked.

"He had his queen, Duskflower, and his mother… Softpelt? Yeah, Softpelt." He thumped his foot again, and which each tap, Sedgepaw could see Cypressfang's eye twitch; she stifled a chuckle. "And he had a few followers... as well as the medicine cat that came with him from the Clan he left, Nightshade."

"Good, good… and his successor?" Cypressfang leaned in, eyes narrowed.

"Nightshade appointed Marshstar's daughter, Eveningpool, as leader. She became Eveningstar."

"What Clans were beyond the horizon?" Foxkit asked. "I thought we were the only ones."

"I'm glad you asked, Foxkit," Cypressfang purred. Sitting back on his haunches, he sighed as he relished the nostalgia of MarshClan's tales of the past. "Though their names are lost to time, Marshstar hailed from a land that harbored five Clans that lived in wavering harmony. Marshstar wanted to find a place where cats could live peacefully under the guidance of StarClan, away from the politics of the Clans Beyond the Horizon." He nodded thoughtfully. "He firmly believed a righteous leader is a leader chosen by the medicine cat, for they have the closest relationship to our ancestors. Thus, to this day, our medicine cat chooses which of us may lead."

"Cool!" Foxkit's eyes were as wide as the moon.

"Moving on then," Russetnose mewed, stifling a yawn. Sedgepaw felt his eyes singe the fur on her back. "You picked Lightningstar, right? Let's hear it. I'm overdue for my nap."

"She doesn't know what to say. She didn't even know who to present!" Cypressfang growled dismissively.

"You don't know that!" Sedgepaw snapped. "I—uhm…" When Cypressfang glowered in her direction, Sedgepaw clammed up. She struggled to pick up the pieces of what she was about to say after her grandfather shattered her focus with his scornful glade. "I know he is… the one that succeeded Smallstar, making him the tenth leader of MarshClan. His deputy was… Murkstorm, who became Murkstar after his death."

"And how did he die?" Cypressfang presses.

"I—uh—I don't know."

"He was killed in combat!" Cypressfang smashed his paw into the floor of the elders den, visibly irritated. "He was killed because he refused to listen to his medicine cat. Do you even know how he came into power?"

"N-no, but—"

"Twistedshadow ordered he stage a coup! Smallstar was pathetic; she only cared about keeping peace and tolerated the raiders. And her main medicine cat, Cloudwatcher, was daft. When prey started becoming scarce, MarshClan had enough. They demanded a war! And what did she do?" Spittle rained from his lips as he spoke, his eyes wide with passion as he regaled the past as if he lived in that time.

Sedgepaw shrugged, lowering her head, expression abysmal.

"She did nothing! Lightningstrike had no choice… Twistedshadow gave his word and blessing. He drove out Smallstar. He became leader, but at a price… Because he let Smallstar live, he only had one life, she still had the other eight…"

"S-so Lightningstar was not really a leader?" Sedgepaw surmised.

"Wrong," Cypressfang growled. "He was one of the best. He was the one that developed the apprentice's final test, so that MarshClan would have proper warriors. He was brave and noble, but… he made a grave mistake in allowing Smallstar to live. Kits started going missing. Scouts spotted Smallstar cozying up with the raiders, helping them train the kits they stole."

Sedgepaw's mind was reeling. How could she know this was the truth. Though Cypressfang spoke vehemently, he could easily be regurgitating the words Whitestar fed him. She tried to siphon out the truth, but the past was so foreign to her she failed to grapple its meaning.

"Lightningstar had no choice. In the end, he had to set out to do what he was destined to do: kill Smallstar." Cypressfang rumbled on, his expression darkening. "He took his best warriors and his deputy, Murkstorm, to the raider colony. At first, they peacefully asked for Smallstar to turn herself in. The raiders refused, vowing to protect her with their lives. It was Murkstorm that made the first move, he dove for Smallstar, vowing to kill her for his best friend and leader, Lightningstar. Before Lightningstar could intervene, he was slain, brought down by three raiders that overwhelmed his fighting prowess with sheer numbers."

"So he never got his eight other lives?" Sedgepaw realized, shocked.

"He died before Smallstar was killed by Murkstorm," Owleyes clarified, sounding melancholy. "But Lightningstar fought for his Clan til the end. Murkstorm had no choice but to assume leadership though he was beside himself with grief over his leader's death. They were like brothers, you see. Yes… it was bittersweet… MarshClan lost a fine young tom, but gained a leader with nine lives and a winning advantage over the raiders."

"Nothing can be achieved without sacrifice," Russetnose observed, nodding sagely. "One must always ask themselves… What would you be willing to give in order to succeed? For some, it's a long day's work… others, a good night's sleep… would you give up everything if it meant you could have anything?"

The elders den fell silent, and the cats that congregated in the shadows glanced at one another wordlessly, all collectively deciding who or what they would sacrifice. Another crash of thunder sounded, causing the bulrush to shiver as wind howled in its wake. Sedgepaw was left wondering what she was willing to sacrifice. She failed to come up with anything. She loved her family, her friends, even her mentor… she loved being an apprentice in MarshClan. What would she lose to keep the other?

"Thank you for helping me," Sedgepaw mewed, breaking the silence. "But… I just have one more question. How did Lightningstar start a revolution?"

"Another good question!" Larkwing praised. "You see—"

"Enough… we aren't at liberty to discuss that either," Cypressfang reminded him.

Larkwing blinked before chucking. "My mistake."

Cypressfang's eyes fell on Sedgepaw. "You don't need to worry about the how, Sedgepaw, just the why. Lightningstar did what he had to do to keep the Clan safe, just as Whitestar is doing for us now. Leave it at that."

Disappointment clawed at Sedgepaw's belly, and she averted her eyes from the elders in order to hide her anger. _This isn't fair… I have to know! This could be the one way for me to figure out what the prophecy means!_ Digging her claws into the soft earth, she clenched her teeth. It seemed she was left with more questions than answers. Maybe the prophecy was a fluke? Maybe StarClan was wrong? Sedgepaw watched as the apprentices slowly began to exit the elders den, being dismissed by Cypressfang and Russetnose. How could she start a revolution if she did not even know where to begin?

Following the apprentices outside the elders den, Sedgepaw inhaled the fresh scent of rainfall, gazing around camp as the MarshClan cats went about their day peacefully—a stark contrast from the night before. The status quo did little to harm her. The way things were, she had a simple job: to serve her Clan. No prophecy was going to change that. Lightningstar had to do what was right for the time. The only thing Sedgepaw had to do was graduate and become a warrior. Just as everything began to make sense, her mind became clouded with the names of cats that did not get to enjoy a simple life. Vinestripe, Nettlefrost, Jayflight and more all became Fallen because they opposed Whitestar. The "big picture" became decidedly grim when Sedgepaw fixed her family into the frame. What if she lost her parents like Blueflower? What then?

Sedgepaw kneaded the grass, ripping it out of the ground as she dug for answers. She knew what needed to be done, and she was desperate enough to go for it. The only way to know the truth was to go straight to the source. Flickering in her mind's eye like a dim candle flame was the face of the pale brown tabby with green eyes, the one she saw before falling from the Great Cypress. Maybe they knew the answers? Coming from beyond the river border, that mysterious cat had to be Fallen. No one else lived outside of MarshClan.

Under the cover of rainfall that slowly became a downpour, Sedgepaw slipped out of camp. This was the only way. She had to know. Sedgepaw realized what she was willing to sacrifice for the truth: herself.


	12. Blood Red Horizon

THUNDER boomed above, but Sedgepaw was undeterred as she waded through the marsh towards the cypress forest. Lightning flashed, white hot, crackling through the sky with a hiss, threatening to split the heavy storm clouds in two. The rainy season had arrived, and it paraded through MarshClan with a menagerie of wind, rain, thunder, and lightning.

As it poured, Sedgepaw was slowed by the onslaught of rainfall. She had to squint to see the tree line, where the cypress branches were stripped of their wigs of moss and a mess of leaves twirled midair at the mercy of the gusts. Everything appeared dark. Sedgepaw began to wonder if her pursuit was a mistake… but she knew in the back of her mind it was too late to turn tail.

Lightning splintered the sky once more, followed by a roar of thunder. Sedgepaw broke into a sprint as the marsh thinned. She splashed peat against her pelt adding new stripes of muck to her dark brown tabby fur. Trawling herself further and further, when she finally set foot on solid earth, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Hurrying into the cover of the cypress forest, Sedgepaw was shielded from the downpour. Panting, she flinched as more lightning flashed, becoming more fierce as she travelled further and further from the safety of camp. No matter the cost, she had to find the Fallen. Her medicine cat, her leader, the elders, even her mother shielded the truth from her. If anyone was willing to share the secrets of MarshClan, it was those condemned for not keeping them.

Slithering between the cypress knees that jutted from the tender earth and leaf rot, Sedgepaw knew it would not be long before she reached the border. Hopping over ferns and ducking below myrtle bushes, Sedgepaw was able to peer through the canopy of pine and cypress branches to see the Great Cypress standing above the rest, daring to stretch its branches out towards the angry sky.

Sliding down the slope, the sodden pine needles clumped at her paws as she approached the ledge where she first spotted the mysterious pale brown tabby. Though she doubted her memory after the fall, revisiting the spot she first witnessed them only reignited her certainty. How could she forget those nearly translucent pale green eyes? Sedgepaw followed the ledge as it descended closer towards the river.

The rain was slowing now, only a few teardrops were shed from the storm clouds heavy lids. It appeared the heavens' tantrum was petering out. Distant thunder echoed through the forest, only a faint memory of what it was. By the time Sedgepaw reached the river border, the storm stopped. All that remained was an occasional gust of wind to ruffle Sedgepaw's long fur. Staring across the river, she felt her heart flutter. She never crossed the border before. What if she never came back?

In her hesitation, Sedgepaw nearly failed to hear the pawsteps of a patrol approaching. She dove for the nearest swathe of reeds, cursing under her breath. Her golden eyes gleamed with frustration as she peered through the broad leaves of duck potato to see a patrol consisting of Littlebrook, Snakefang, Kiteclaw, and—Sedgepaw groaned internally—Batface.

"That was some storm!" Littlebrook chirped, shaking her dappled pelt with a giggle, showering the patrol with water.

"Focus," Kiteclaw hissed, squinting as droplets splashed against her narrow face. "We're near the border. Keep your wits about you."

"Roger that, Kiteclaw," Snakefang growled, following the patrol captain's lead. His unblinking, amber gaze skimmed the border intently.

Sedgepaw started to back away, but her paw grated the pebbles wedged between the reeds. She stiffened as the entire patrol perked their ears. Heart thundering louder than the storm, she feared she was done for.

"What was that?" Snakefang growled.

"Likely a frog plopping along," Batface assured the younger warrior.

When Kiteclaw nodded in agreement, Sedgepaw relaxed. Thankfully, the bog from the marsh and rain from the storm seemed to disguise her scent.

"I'll stay behind to investigate," Batface decided. His tail swished dismissively. "I'll meet you at the end of the border."

Damn… Sedgepaw curled her lip in frustration.

"Batface, I don't think that's a good idea," Kiteclaw mewed. "There's a potential killer on the loose. We should remain a single unit."

Yes! Sedgepaw's ears perked. Kiteclaw had a point. MarshClan had a warrior blinded and another lost; it was not a good time to split up. She smirked smugly.

"Whitestar may have made you captain of this patrol, but do not forget my seniority; I have seen more than you're even capable of comprehending," Batface growled. "As the most experienced, it would only make sense to let me stay behind to investigate strange noises and scents while you take the younger warriors on the routine path. I can handle myself… unless you doubt my strength?"

"My apologies, Batface." Though her words were apologetic, her amber eyes were steely as she regarded Batface with a tight-lipped frown. "I'll leave you to it."

As the patrol went about their watch, Batface stood fast, appearing like a dark statue along the shoreline of the river. A shadow frozen in time. The rushing current, which swelled after the rainfall, drowned out the ambient noise of the forest, but above it all Sedgepaw could hear her heart beating. The glare in Batface's orange eyes alerted her to his keen senses, and when his ears swiveled to catch the slightest noise, she winced. He was searching… Her muscles tensed when he broke from his statuesque posture, walking forward until he was out of sight.

Silence fell. Glancing fervently between the reeds, Sedgepaw failed to see where her mentor went. Parting her lips, she tasted the air; only the scents of the patrol were mixed with his, unless he ventured downwind. Sedgepaw could feel him staring, though, and she was desperate to find him.

"It's dangerous to be outside of camp alone." Batface's voice rumbled through the reeds, causing Sedgepaw to burst from her hiding spot with a surprised hiss.

"Batface?" She turned, glaring into the cluster of reeds where she knew he resided. "Why didn't you just call me out instead of sneaking up on me like that?"

"I think it's time you became intimately familiar with the dangers of warrior life," Batface growled, seeping out from between the reeds like a cloud of smoke. "Follow me to the shore."

Not having much choice, Sedgepaw trailed after her mentor, pushing through the reeds to standing in the damp sand of the shoreline. She watched the water rush by, leaving a haze of mist as it passed. The river border she wanted to cross seemed so far away now, but it would only take a few pawsteps for her to reach the other side and gain the answers she sought after.

Batface stood before her, his back still facing her, and slowly tilted his head to glance back at the apprentice. "I realize I have failed you," he began. "When I detected your scent today, I understood how painfully vulnerable I've left you." He began to walk towards the flora that encircled them. "If I had been an enemy, I could've killed you easily."

"But—" Unable to protest, Sedgepaw was forced into silence as Batface slowly melted with the shadows, stealthily becoming one with their surroundings in a heartbeat.

"The knowledge I am about to give you is dangerous," Batface rasped, voice emanating from the cover of the reeds. "It may be your boon or your doom, but you cannot be ignorant of it if you're going to have a shot at surviving."

"What is it?" Sedgepaw was breathless. Perhaps she would get some answers?

"The capacity to kill."

"Wh—what?" Sedgepaw froze.

"Kill or be killed." Batface's rasping voice was omnipresent. Sedgepaw could feel him circling, just out of sight, eyeing her from the shadows. "That's the kind of world we live in, Sedgepaw."

"I know that," she snapped, tail lashing. "Now, show yourself and fight me! That's what this is about, right? Just come out and let me prove myself!"

There was only a faint rustle in the reeds or the sound of a steady, practiced breath that betrayed Batface's location; as soon as Sedgepaw's eyes flickered to the source of the noise, another one startled her from behind. Snapping twigs, shivering leaves, soft growls… they surrounded her. Claws could rake down her back. Her neck could be braced in a lethal bite. Eyes gouged out. Ear ripped. Tail snapped. Adrenaline flooded her bloodstream, pumping electricity into every inch of her body. The once whimsical cricket song became shrill, and the trilling of frogs sounded like a siren. The swamp became a livewire, charging Sedgepaw for her eventual attack.

"You know what it takes to be a warrior, but not what it means." Batface's voices echoed abysmally. "You think killing is so easy?"

"Come out, and I'll show you how easy it is," she jested.

"You don't make cuts just to watch the blood flow," Batface hissed. "When you go for the kill, you have to be careful and precise; one wrong move, and you'll be the one getting buried."

Sedgepaw flexed her claws. Batface never discussed killing in his combat teachings before. She was in unfamiliar territory, but she was hungry to learn. Her muscles ached for the fight, and her mind pumped through each word her mentor spouted, thirsting for more to fuel her thoughts.

"There are three types of killers: sloppy, angry, and keen," Batface continued. "Unfortunately…" A sigh rustled from the reeds. "Unfortunately, you will likely encounter them all before you retire."

Coming face to face with a killer seemed unreal to Sedgepaw. She could only imagine a shadowy silhouette with blood red eyes and dripping fangs. A figment of a night terror. And yet, she knew she lived amongst killers in her Clan. It was a warrior's duty to protect their own, no matter the cost…

"Sloppy killers… Their movements are so erratic and untrained, they kill out of happenstance. Sloppy killers make a mess of their victims and themselves." Batface's voice seemed to be getting closer. "Out of sheer luck, they succeed. However, they can be just as dangerous as any other killer. Why?"

Sedgepaw imagined a lifeless, mangled body. Blood was splattered across the earth and across the face of the perpetrator. Their eyes were wide with horror, and their breathing fluttered like a broken bird wing.

"Because… they're scared?" she guessed.

"Correct! And what makes a scared cat dangerous?"

"They're unpredictable," she decided, sounding confident. "They act out of fear, so they have no control."

"Excellent…" Batface's voice became ghostly as it grew more distant. Sedgepaw's ears swiveled to catch each vowel he uttered. "And that brings us to the next type of killer: the angry."

"They're acting out of rage," Sedgepaw piped up. "Maybe vengeance or protectiveness."

"Correct… but you answered a question I didn't ask." There was a growl in his throat. "How do you think an angry killer attacks?"

"With… rage?" Sedgepaw chuckled uneasily.

"To be specific," Batface grumbled. "They go for where it hurts. Angry killers wish to inflict pain on their victims; they want to watch them writhe and relish the tortured look plastered on their dead faces."

The thought of encountering an angry killer sent a chill down her spine. "So they go for… the belly?"

"That's one sensitive area, yes. They also target the face, especially the eyes, lips, and ears." Batface's voice suddenly became apparent from behind Sedgepaw, she whirled around to face him, fur bristling. He continued to speak, voice just above a whisper, his orange eyes were glowing with eerie intensity. "Most victims of an angry killer will bleed out without needing a final blow." Batface's rasping voice deepened. "They will land strike after strike, wanting to bludgeon every inch of their foe… This is when killing gets personal."

Sedgepaw took a step back, claws unsheathed. She did not trust the peculiar gleam in her mentor's eye. "And keen killers?" she pressed.

"A keen killer is precise; they go in knowing their intentions and owning their tactics. Emotion does not play a role in this. No fear, anger, or panic… A keen killer is calm and recognizes their job: to permanently eliminate the enemy."

Batface closed the distance between them, bringing an unsheathed claw to Sedgepaw's throat. She froze under his touch. She could feel her pulse growing stronger and more rapid as the back of Batface's claw pressed into her jugular.

"A swift, clean kill is achieved by going straight for the throat. Imagine painting a smile across your opponent's neck," Batface instructed, voice lowered.

"How could you even aim that precisely?" Sedgepaw wondered, swallowing loudly when Batface failed to remove his claw from her tremoring pulse.

"Intent. You need to pin your opponent or come at them from behind; as the attacker, you have to plan ahead and know exactly what you need to do and how, so when the time comes, there's no room for error." He paused, raking his eyes over Sedgepaw. "If you're confident in your pain tolerance, you can go for a bite to the throat, but then you risk injury by placing yourself close to the victim for too long."

"Why would I even need to kill?" Sedgepaw scoffed. "Our only enemies are the Fallen, and they rarely bother us."

"Don't underestimate them," Batface warned. "They received the same training you are getting now, and they bare grudges. Never doubt their capabilities."

"Understood," Sedgepaw murmured. When Batface's claw finally left her throat, she could breathe easy. "So… when would I need to kill?"

"Killing should only be a last resort," Batface replied coldly. "When you take someone's life… everything changes. Unless given the order to do so, you should only kill if you absolutely have to."

Nodding, Sedgepaw flexed her claws, staring at her paw with a frown. In her dream, her paw, her chest, her face were all soaked in blood. The reflection of herself in the water seemed cool and collected. But the message the entity from her dream muttered… it still dumbfounded her. Was she really meant to spill blood? Curling her claws, Sedgepaw returned her paw to the ground with a sigh. If it was her duty, she would.

"Your final test is approaching," Batface continued. "Before long, I will not be there to cover up your mistakes. I need to be certain you're ready." Voice dropping an octave, the growl that followed his words bled into what he spoke.

Hearing the faint click of his claws against the ground, Sedgepaw's eyes flashed. Muscles wound tight, she could feel them ripple beneath her pelt as she rocked her shoulders. This was her chance to finally prove to Batface that she was ready.

"During your test day, you will be pitted against another apprentice, and you will fight with claws unsheathed," he explained, black fur slowly beginning to bristle. "Today, I will fight against you in the same manner."

Nodding solemnly, Sedgepaw felt her nerves tingle. This would be the closest thing to a real fight she's gotten in her six moons of training. By the next full moon, the thirteenth moon of her life, she would be a warrior… But only if Batface allows her to test. Her career, her life, her pride were at stake. I will not lose, she decided.

The two cats began to circle each other. Only the roar of the river could be heard, and fog began to roll off the rushing water onto shore, shrouding them in a haze of gray. Sedgepaw waited, not wanting to make the first move. Her tail lashed as she challenged her mentor with a goading hiss, golden eyes alite like a flame. Batface returned the hiss. In a flash of black, he lunged for Sedgepaw's legs, but she sprang out of reach. She knew he would try to slow her down again. She was ready.

Now that she stood behind him, she raked her claws down his back. Blood freckled her face. She was stunned by the stench and how warm it felt as it blotted against her fur. Batface took advantage of her shock and turned on her, quickly locking his fangs into her shoulder. The initial impact stung like a barrage of wasp stings, and as he dug his claws into her side, she screeched in rage as the pain assaulted her. She had to get him off. At first she shook, swinging her body to try and loosen his grip. He only clung tighter like a tick clinging to its last meal. She screeched in rage. There had to be a way. When she realized how he was able to clutch her broad shoulder without hanging off, she realized: he was smaller than her.

Trumping him in size, when she rolled to her side to crush him as he clung to her, she felt the air wheeze out of him under her weight. Seeing her mentor stunned, she lunged like a viper, striking him with her fangs against his chest and shoulders. Batface hissed in pain and kicked his legs out, clipping Sedgepaw's jaw with his back claws. She stepped back, not wanting those vicious claws to rake her eyes.

Rising to his paws, Batface growled. Despite his age, Sedgepaw could see the light of fight in his eyes. She knew he would not last as long as she, however. Faking him out, she made it seem like she would swipe at his side only to bring her other claw against his shoulder. He stole the opportunity to swipe at her cheek as she leaned in to land her blow. Their exchange of slashes caused their blood to spatter against the sand, and as time passed Sedgepaw became immune to its stench.

The adrenaline that flooded her veins set the world on fire. Everything seemed brighter, hotter, more dangerous. Batface's claws slashed through the air with a whistle, nearly cutting her ear, and she ducked to avoid him. In a flash of black, he sprung onto her back and sunk his claws into her. Sedgepaw roared and knew better than to try and shake him off again. Instead, she rolled onto her back, only her mentor thought better and jumped off before she hit the ground. Clouds of sound swarmed around her upon impact, and she did not have the time to stand before Batface was on top of her, free to scratch at her face and shoulders and bite at her neck.

In a panic, Sedgepaw reached for his shoulders awkwardly, getting him in her clutches. She knew she could not let him flee from her attack again. He was too fast. She had to hold him still if she was going to stand a chance. As she held him, she kicked her hind legs to land blow after blow against his soft belly. Batface hissed, spit and blood raining down on her face as he jerked his head back in agony. As he struggled to rip himself from her grip, she was able to kick again and again. She felt his blood trickle down to splatter against her belly, warm and sticky. Batface refuses to give in, however, he took the blows, eyes wide and lip curled.

Staring into his eyes, Sedgepaw froze when she noticed her reflection in the depths of his orange irises. She recognized the bloodied face from her dreams hiding in his gaze. What am I becoming? Retracting her claws, she kicked Batface off and panted. Rising to her paws, she stared at the bloodstains marring her fur. She was a sapling struggling to stand after a storm, limbs shivering as her sanity threatened to by yanked by its roots. What am I becoming? she asked herself again.

Batface rolled into the sand, panting and coughing. Sedgepaw watched as her mentor stood, shaking, as blood fell from his black fur like steady, scarlet rain drops. He regarded her with a lopsided smirk, wincing as he wheezed in pain. "You—you did good," he admitted with a cough. "But you held back. Why?"

Sedgepaw was silent, fishing for words that avoided her lure. "I…" She narrowed her eyes. The image of herself… covered in the blood of another cat… eyes vacant… it haunted her. "I was scared."

Batface was by her side, his smile gone. "You need to be scared," Batface reassured her. "We are warriors. This is our life. We bare the burden of our ancestors and the blood of our enemies. If that doesn't scare you… then I doubt you know what it means to be a warrior."

"Right…" She pushed the entity from her dreams out of her mind. "Will I ever not be scared?"

Her mentor was making his way through the reeds and she followed after him, noticing the small trail of blood he left behind. "You will feel it less as time goes on," he rasped. "It will always be there, though. More as a whisper than a scream. You have to numb yourself to it, or you'll go mad. The things you may have to do… You just have to remind yourself it's for the greater good and press on."

As the heat of battle dulled and became a lukewarm memory, Sedgepaw felt her fear slowly fade away. She winced, feeling blood pool and drip from the deep gashes on her shoulder. Despite the pain, her fight made her feel… alive. Her ebbing fear was succeeded by her rising pride. She beat Batface for the first time. Watching the older warrior walk so carefully, almost stiffly, she realized he was trying to hide his limp. Perhaps she should have had restraint?

"Do not dwell on your past actions," Batface went on. "Learn from your mistakes and move on. There is nothing in your past but ghosts, and they will drag you down until you're as dead as they are."

They continued through the cypress swamp. Around them, the shadows grew, threatening to engulf them in darkness. Birdsong and cricket song mingled in a rare chorus that only harmonized during sunset. Sedgepaw followed her mentor out of the woods to the marsh. They stood side by side, watching the blood red horizon bleed across the sky in angry shades of scarlet.

"Do you speak from experience, Batface?" she asked quietly.

Her mentor wordlessly approached the marsh, grunting as he stepped into the peat and bog. "I've done things in life that I regret. Sometimes I can't sleep at night," he confessed. "It'd be unfair to ask you to live a life with no regrets when your life is not even yours to live."

"What do you mean?" Sedgepaw pressed, wading through the muddy water behind him.

"You live to serve Whitestar, and by extension, StarClan," Batface reminded her. "Your duty is greater than yourself. The things you may have to do along the way… think of them as collateral for the eternal life you will have in the stars."

"But—"

"It's a hard plum to swallow, I know," Batface interrupted. "But if you strive for a life of greatness, you'll be remembered as such. Who knows? Maybe they'll tell stories about you one day."

If only Batface knew… Sedgepaw gazed toward the horizon, remembering what her reflection uttered: "When the scarlet sun falls and bleeds on the earth, we rise." What could be waiting, just beyond the horizon? What was in store for her? It seemed StarClan already wrote her story… she and her siblings were destined to give rise to revolution. Would she go down in history like Lightningstar and be remembered as a hero? Or would she become the villain?

Sedgepaw felt like she was treading water in a massive lake, waiting for either a wave to bring her under or a current to bring her to shore. Powerless. Hopeless.

"I don't think I'm destined for greatness," Sedgepaw admitted solemnly as they continued to walk through the marsh.

"It's not about what you think, it's about what you do," Batface countered. "Do what you're supposed to do to the best of your ability, the rest will fall into place."

"Well what if I'm doomed for failure?" Sedgepaw protested.

"Living a life as if you're doomed for failure just seals your fate," Batface spat. "That's just an excuse to give up or not try." He turned on her. "If I was destined to fail, I'd still try to succeed as often as I could."

Sedgepaw's head drooped as they approached the wall of sawgrass and maidencane that bordered the camp. Her mind was a whirlwind of dread.

"No matter what," Batface rasped softly, "you need to promise you won't give up."

Raising her eyes to gaze up at her mentor, she frowned.

"You're going to be a warrior, and a fantastic one at that." He chuckled. "I should know… I trained you." Sobering up, his tone became serious. "The worst thing you can do in life is doubt yourself. No matter what StarClan has planned, or what Whitestar wants you to do, the only one that can fail you is you… So... Just promise me you'll try and never give up."

Sedgepaw smiled softly, bringing her head up to stare level with him. So… he did believe in her. All this time. He never doubted her. The only one that ever doubted her… was herself. Reinvigorated, she nodded eagerly before they stepped into the grasses that framed camp.

"I'll never give up, Batface," she vowed. "I promise."


	13. Eyes on You

SCREAMS echoed throughout camp, cats nearly collided with one another as they buzzed between dens, eyes wide and tails raised, exchanging fervent meows between each other. Sedgepaw was befuddled by the chaos when she returned, eyes searching for the source. Pain still surged through her muscles and wounds, pumping with vengeance deep into her bones. The acrid smell and taste of fear, the sound of her wailing Clanmates, the sight of anxiety plastered on all their faces, and the pulsating pain emanating from her wounds… all five of her senses hummed through her being, numbing her. She felt trapped in a bubble, where her feelings were constantly bouncing back against her, colliding into her body with the force of a lightning strike.

"What's going on?" she wondered drearily, eyes sliding to Batface.

Her mentor fixed her with a scornful look. "Don't you remember? You're not even supposed to be outside of camp." Her nodded to their distressed Clanmates. "They're likely looking for you."

Sure enough, when Sedgepaw returned her gaze to her Clanmates, they all seemed to take notice of her presence and rushed to her. Sedgepaw recoiled from them, unprepared for the onslaught of attention.

"You're okay!" Yewpaw was beaming, pushing passed Sandthroat and Otternose. "We were so worried about you."

Mudpaw was beside Yewpaw in an instant. "You went on an adventure without me?" He wrinkled his nose in a pout. "No fair…"

Ospreypaw and Shaleheart were also rushing to greet her, eyes wide with relief, and Sedgepaw felt a wave of surprise when she realized just how many of her Clanmates took notice of her absence; what's more, they actually were frightened for her. She felt a jumble of emotions wrack her brain. Maybe she was wrong the question them? Maybe running to the Fallen for answers was a mistake?

A growl sounded from the crowd. Longscar emerged with a fierce grimace. "You seem to be making a habit of wandering off," he observed scathingly, suspicion coloring each syllable he uttered.

Batface took a step closer to Sedgepaw, his orange eyes holding a warning. "Need I remind you, I am the one responsible for my apprentice. I already addressed her mistakes."

Longscar's tail lashed, and he met Batface's glare with a challenge.

Before he could say more, Otternose snickered. "Got a handle on her, huh?" she sneered. "It looks like she got the handle on you!"

Sandthroat also chuckled, his rasping voice sounding like he ate gravel for sustenance. "Looks like you both duked it out alright," he pointed out.

"Oh my stars!" Yewpaw gasped, face twisting in horror. "You're both bleeding! What happened?"

Shaleheart interjected before Sedgepaw could explain. "Batface and Sedgepaw probably had battle training," he assured her gently, though his eyes flashed with concern when he regarded Sedgepaw.

"I thought it best to let Sedgepaw experience the dangers of running off alone herself," Batface explained cordially. Though he spoke with pride, Sedgepaw noticed the slight slouch in his frame; she could see him wince every now and then. The wounds on his belly likely pained him the most. She felt a pang of guilt.

"That's the way it's done!" Sandthroat crowed. "You younger mentors should take note. That's how real warriors train. I know I take Toadpaw out for a good one, two quite often."

The gloating in Sandthroat's hoarse voice was as clear as the springs. However, Sedgepaw could see the dimness in his yellow eyes, the slight droop to his whiskers; he was likely up all night worrying over Egretsong… She felt her heart lurch. Batface probably saved her by interrupting her secret excursion. If she met Scorchface beyond the river, her eyes could have been gouged out next.

"Regardless," Longscar continued, still eyeing Batface, "we had to make another search party to find you." His glare turned to Sedgepaw. "Thankfully there were enough warriors in camp at the time, but you must realize what a grave waste of resources this was."

"I apologize, Longscar," Sedgepaw muttered through gritted teeth, reluctantly bowing her head. "I learned my lesson."

"Enough of this," Batface spat. "I'll be the one disciplining my apprentice unless Whitestar says otherwise."

Tension in the air was thick, and Sedgepaw felt suffocated between the glares of Longscar and Batface. Shaleheart suddenly brushed up beside her, bursting the atmosphere with his reassuring lick against her forehead. She was tempted to lean into her father, but thought better of it. She needed to look tough before Longscar. The warrior had suspected her since the last night. There was no room for her breathe when he eyed her like a hawk, ready to strike her with his talons the moment she showed weakness.

"How about we let these two go to Redleaf, hm?" Shaleheart suggested, glancing between the two warriors as they remained deadlocked in their glares.

"Very well," Longscar relented with a small growl.

"I don't need your permission," Batface snapped, tail lashing. His scarred muzzle spasmed with a grimace as he pushed by Longscar and the other warriors, and Sedgepaw followed close behind.

As Sedgepaw made her way through the crowd of cats, she caught a glimpse of hurt in Ospreypaw's eyes. She felt her heart rot with guilt. She always told her friend everything, but lately… she felt a divide between them. The gorge of secrets threatened their closeness. The last thing Sedgepaw wanted was to lose her best friend.

"I'll talk to you about it later," she mouthed to Ospreypaw, and the other apprentice nodded slowly.

Of course, Mudpaw materialized beside the black and white she-cat, and Sedgepaw refrained from rolling her eyes. Hesitating, she knew her brother noticed their exchange.

"Talk about what?" Mudpaw whispered eagerly.

The horde of secrets she was harboring threatened to burst from her jaws. The prophecy was not just about her, it affected her siblings too. Maybe she was being selfish by keeping everything to herself? She ducked her head in silent defeat, knowing time was not on her side. If she was going to tell them, she would need to do it soon.

"Meet me by the Great Cypress, tonight." Sedgepaw murmured to them. Her voice was grave, and it seemed to spook the apprentices, for they exchanged a wary glance with one another. "Bring Yewpaw too."

"Sedgepaw!" Batface hollered. "Get your tail over here before I come and drag you."

Leaving the crowd to follow after Batface, Sedgepaw realized how much her body ached as she entered the shadows of the medicine den. The familiar scent of fresh marigold and herbs tickled her nose, but the faint odor of blood wafted through the warm air. She knew where it came from. Egretsong's bloody face haunted her memory as she was greeted by a weary Heronpaw. The lanky tom regarded her and Batface with a somber nod; his blue eyes glistened with fatigue.

"Training?" Heronpaw asked listlessly. His eyes grazed their wounds slowly.

Batface nodded once, eyes narrowed. "Where's Redleaf?"

"He went to escort Whitestar to the Lunar Cavern." Heronpaw turned for the herb store, nodding towards a pair of unoccupied moss nests. "Something about needing to consult the stars…"

Sedgepaw was not sure if she was relieved or concerned about Redleaf's absence. She was freed from his oppressive presence, but the more time he spent with Whitestar, the more opportunities he had to tell her about the prophecy. Why he was waiting to say anything perplexed Sedgepaw. Regardless, she was grateful for his confidentiality. Anxiety pricked her heart. Perhaps the secret was unveiled? Was that why Whitestar needed to meet with StarClan?

Crawling into the bed of moss, Sedgepaw struggled to get comfortable. Millions of questions ran through her head, bouncing in her skull like a rabbit as they remained unanswered. With the Clan on high alert because of Minnowtail's disappearance and both Longscar and Batface keeping an eye on her, going to the Fallen was near impossible. Her only other option was to confront Fernstream… Her mother would be upset, but if Sedgepaw remained in the dark any longer, she would go insane.

Slumping onto her side, she sighed loudly and stared at the ceiling of verdant stems and golden flowers. Her wounded shoulder seared with pain. Tilting her head, she was able to see Batface getting settled in beside her, grunting as she adjusted himself in the moss. She could see the faintest twitch in his muscles and winces in his face that betrayed his pain. Though he praised her fighting prowess, Sedgepaw could not shake the nagging feeling that she had gone too far.

"Here," Heronpaw mumbled through the herbs in his mouth. His small paw pushed forward a poultice that smelled faintly of sweetbriar and willow, it rested on a duck potato leaf in a glistening clump. "This will help prevent infection."

Heronpaw sat the herbs in his mouth down on the same broad leaf, kneading at it with claws unsheathed in silence. The thick, waxy leaf handled Heronpaw's crushing well, but the concoction of cattails and primrose petals was quickly reduced to a pulp. He eyed Sedgepaw critically, shaking his head.

"You need to clean your wounds before I can apply the medicine," he mewed shortly. "All that mud and blood in your scratches is going to stunt your healing. Fix it."

Sedgepaw wrinkled her nose at the touchy medicine cat apprentice. However, she held her tongue from lashing out a biting remark. Heronpaw shuffled off to tend to Batface, for he was studiously licking his wounds with his eyes half-shut. Watching Heronpaw begin to apply the pulp to his cuts, she wondered if he even took joy in healing other cats. His face always seemed either twisted in a scowl or void of emotion. Redleaf may be the bringer of her doom, but at least he managed a smile every now and then.

When a familiar sweet scent lingered at the entrance to the medicine den, Sedgepaw stiffened. Mid-lick, she found herself staring into Blueflower's bright blue eyes as the she-cat burst into the den to hurry to her side. Her face burned with embarrassment as she realized how disheveled she looked to the pretty warrior. Her dark fur stuck out at odd angles, slicked with mud and blackened with blood.

"Sedgepaw!" Blueflower gasped. "You're hurt." Her eyes lingered on the tears into her shoulder. "What happened? I-I mean we've been looking all over for you."

"Uh... training," Sedgepaw replied lamely with a lopsided grin. She winced after making the mistake of shrugging her shoulders. "We had battle training, me and Batface. It's not a big deal…" Blueflower was looking for her?

Blueflower sighed. "Training with claws unsheathed, it never made sense to me," she murmured softly. A smile dawned on her soft face. "At least you're okay. When I heard you were missing…" The warrior shook her head, rolling her eyes. "It doesn't matter. You're here now."

"Yeah…" Sedgepaw smiled back. Blueflower was worried about her? She was not sure if she should feel elated or guilty. "I'm sorry I worried you."

"Forget about it." Blueflower giggled. "I should've known you would be alright."

Now under Blueflower's gaze, Sedgepaw hesitated to continue cleaning her wounds. She felt self-conscious, especially considering how messy she looked. The silence that stretched between them threatened to engulf the she-cats in a permanent atmosphere of awkwardness.

Heronpaw was the one to break it. "Hey, instead of a staring contest, how about you help clean that apprentice's wounds?" he suggested wryly. "It seems Sedgepaw forgot how to work her tongue today."

The chuckle that emerged from Batface only made Sedgepaw's face burn hotter. As Blueflower closed the distance between them, she felt her heart nearly burst from her chest. Drowning in her sweet scent, Sedgepaw felt suspended in midair by the time Blueflower rested behind her. Feeling her gently lick at her bloody shoulder, Sedgepaw relished the bittersweet sting as her wound was cleaned. Her body felt stiff around Blueflower at first, but she slowly began to let her muscles unwind as she was immersed in her warmth. Feeling Blueflower pressed against her back, with her hot breath against her shoulder, sent shivers down her spine. Sedgepaw was devoured by a mass of emotions that she was unable to put into words.

Eyes half-shut, she clenched her teeth as Blueflower quietly licked at her cuts and scratches along her shoulder. "So… you were looking for me?" Sedgepaw asked.

She could hear the smile in Blueflower's voice. "Me and a few other warriors, yes."

Sedgepaw glanced back at the warrior, her heart fluttering wildly. She wondered if Blueflower would be upset if she found out why Sedgepaw left in the first place. With Batface in earshot, she could not be honest with the warrior. Instead, she settled for silence, enjoying Blueflower's closeness.

"Molefoot and Mothfur came with me." Blueflower's voice was as smooth as a rose petal as she continued. "We looked everywhere for you. Why did you leave?"

Sedgepaw stiffened. Maybe she would not be able to keep her secret after all? She could not bare the thought of lying to Blueflower.

When Heronpaw returned to her, she sighed with relief. "Alright, let's get that wound tended to," he muttered.

Heronpaw dexterously applied the poultice with such swiftness, Sedgepaw did not have the time to react to the sting before he was gone. Watching the apprentice slink away, she felt a pang of sympathy for him. He was about the same age as her mother, and he was still considered an apprentice despite his knowledge and skills.

"Thank you," she meowed after him, only to receive a short tail flick of acknowledgement from the medicine cat apprentice.

Feeling Blueflower press closer to her, her breath caught in her throat. The she-cat's nose gently grazed the ruffled fur framing the gash in her shoulder. When she sighed gently against her fur, Sedgepaw nearly shivered. Whatever enchantment was cast over Sedgepaw when Blueflower was around, it had the strength of the stars themselves.

"The wound already looks like it's healing nicely," Blueflower observed. "You'll be fine." The relief in her voice made Sedgepaw feel warmth rise inside her.

"I'm sorry I sent you on a wild goose chase." Sedgepaw chuckled, shaking her head. "I wasn't thinking."

"Longscar was pretty upset," Blueflower pointed out in a whisper. Worry painted her words.

"I know… I'm getting the feeling he has it out for me." Though there was a jest in her tone, Sedgepaw's eyes were serious as she stared back at Blueflower. They were speaking softly enough not to be heard by Batface. When Sedgepaw glanced his way, her mentor appeared to be asleep.

"I'll keep an eye out for you then," Blueflower assured her. Sedgepaw was surprised by the protectiveness in her tone, and how she leaned in close to accentuate her promise. "It's my fault he got onto you in the first place."

"You don't have to do that."

"I know, but I want to." Blueflower smiled. "If it means it'll keep you safe."

Sedgepaw forgot how to speak. Blueflower really did care… The notion made her heart soar. She felt an unbridled tenderness toward Blueflower that was so deliciously foreign to her she felt every nerve on her body thirst for another taste.

"Why do you want to keep me safe?" Sedgepaw wondered; she was breathless.

"Because the Clan needs cats like you now more than ever. You care about others, I can see it. And… I can't bare the thought of losing someone like you."

Sedgepaw blinked, dumbstruck. She scrambled for words, but they skittered out of reach like startled mice. "I…"

Blueflower rose to her paws. "Let me grab you some fresh-kill," she offered. "It's been a long day for both of us, but you can't go to sleep on an empty stomach."

Sedgepaw watched Blueflower leave with a heavy heart. So, did she care about her or just cats like her? Confusion muddled her thoughts. She grunted in frustration, shifting on her side to sprawl her legs out of the mossy nest. Why were these feelings so confusing? Batface's rasping yawn caused her ears to perk, and she looked to see him staring right at her.

"Well, that was touching," he meowed dryly. "I never knew you fancied Blueflower."

"Wha-what?" Sedgepaw snorted, ears burning. "I have no idea what you're talking about… I don't 'fancy' anyone."

"There's no shame in it," Batface pointed out with a deep chuckle. "So long as you don't let it distract from your training."

"Whatever… I still don't know what you're talking about."

"So you don't have feelings for her?" Batface clarified, head tilting.

"I mean… Yeah, of course." Sedgepaw sputtered as she spoke, struggling to keep her cool under her mentor's keen stare. "She's smart and brave and well-spoken and pretty and-"

Batface's shrewd grin wrinkled his scarred face, and Sedgepaw shut her yap quickly in response. "Have you thought about weaving a promise wreath?"

Sedgepaw frowned, shaking her head. "She probably thinks of me as a kit." The idea of presenting Blueflower with a promise wreath made her bones become supple. If she stood now, she would surely topple over. "There's no way she would accept my proposal."

"Not with that attitude," Batface rasped scornfully. "The Blossom Festival is the best and most respectable time to take a mate, according to tradition. You'll be a warrior by then, and you have time to weave your wreath for her."

"I don't even know how to do it," Sedgepaw rebuked, gritting her teeth.

Batface hissed, shaking his head. "Of course not! You've never done it before. Typically, the proposer in your family would be your teacher. Did Shaleheart of Fernstream initiate their relationship?"

"I don't know," Sedgepaw mumbled.

"Well… ask!" Batface prompted. "You're too young to ignore love. When it's there, you embrace it and never let go."

As a kit, Sedgepaw was told stories of the illustrious Blossom Festival. Warriors willing to attend would travel south, beyond the cypress forest, to a grove of orange trees in bloom. The sweet scent of citrus filling the warm air, wafting through the branches decorated with full white blossoms and plump orange fruits, Sedgepaw could see it clearly in her mind's eye. Suitors willing to propose to their potential mate would present orange blossoms entwined with jasmine vines, a promise wreath, in hopes of their acceptance. Sedgepaw imagined Blueflower sitting below the branches, her blue-gray fur stained with the scarlet rays of sunlight, and her bright blue eyes framed with a crown of white flowers. She found herself smiling.

"You're right," Sedgepaw admitted softly. "Maybe I should…"

"Should what?" Blueflower mewed from the entrance, a pair of mice between her teeth. She crossed the shadows of the den putting a mouse before Sedgepaw and the other before Batface, sitting between them with a smile. "I know you were asleep when I left, but I figured you'd wake up hungry." She glanced between them, brow quirked. "Did I interrupt something?"

"It's n-nothing!" Sedgepaw piped up, laughing nervously. She scooped the mouse up vigorously, scarfing it down as her nerves ate away at her.

Blueflower laughed, watching Sedgepaw devour the fresh-kill with a twinkle in her eye. "I'm sorry, I would've brought more, but Grayjaw and his patrol are still getting double portions because of capturing Scorchface the other day."

"N-no, no, it's fine. Thank you." Sedgepaw offered a small smile, licking her lips as she relished the taste of her meal. Her stomach did hunger for more, but she refused to let Blueflower know that.

"Yes, thank you, Blueflower," Batface added.

"Don't worry about it!" Blueflower purred. "I'm happy to help."

"What's all the racket in here?" Heronpaw hissed, stepping out from the far side of the medicine den. "Egretsong is still in recovery. She needs peace and quiet."

"Sorry, Heronpaw," Blueflower mewed, standing and taking a step toward the entrance to camp. "Has Egretsong said anything yet?"

Sedgepaw stared at Heronpaw, just as curious. She was the last one to see Minnowtail alive besides Scorchface. With the warrior still missing, she could be the key to his discovery.

"No," Heronpaw replied quietly. "She's still resting."

As if summoned by their whispers, emerging from the shadows behind Heronpaw was a petite figure. Her cream and white fur was shrouded in darkness, but it was her blood-stained face that stole Sedgepaw's attention. Streaks of crimson stained the white fur on her cheeks as if she cried rivulets of blood last night. Loose swathes of plantain leaves were wrapped around her eyes and she smelled strongly of earthy sumac, which hid the scent of her bloody wounds. Sedgepaw did not need to remove her bandages to know the gore they hid. The sight of her last night still sent chills down her spine.

"I'm here," she mewed shakily.

"Egretsong!" Batface was on his paws in an instant, regarding his Clanmate with horror. "How did this happen?"

"Are you okay? Who did that to you?" Blueflower asked anxiously, making a move toward the warrior.

Heronpaw bristled, standing between the concerned warriors and his patient. "Give her space," he hissed.

Sedgepaw was frozen as she watched the she-cat begin to shake. Her lips trembled as she lowered her head; Sedgepaw did not need to see her eyes to understand the defeat radiating off the warrior. Her heart lurched when she realized just how horrid the she-cat may have felt.

"I… I failed," Egretsong mewed, her once lilting, bubbly voice sounding as dismal as the growing darkness. As sunset fell to nightfall, the shadows of the den only hugged the cats tighter in their embrace.

"Shh," Blueflower mewed, "you mustn't think such things…"

"I did!" Egretsong wailed, sinking. Heronpaw was by her side, supporting her with a grunt as sobs wracked her body. "I-I let my guard down. Scorchface… she got away."

"Did she blind you?" Batface demanded in a growl. His orange eyes burned with a vengeance.

Egretsong started shaking her head, sobbing softly as she seemed to shrink into a babbling kit. "No, no, no…"

"Who did this?" Batface pressed, growling still.

"Silence!" Heronpaw spat. "She's still in shock."

"Minnowtail!" Egretsong cried. "He-he did this."

Sedgepaw's jaw dropped. All her Clanmates were frozen, fur bristling and eyes wide, petrified by Egretsong's cry. Their own Clanmate was responsible? She felt her blood run cold. That would mean… he betrayed MarshClan in order to let Scorchface escape. She shook her head. It just didn't make sense.

"Impossible!" Batface snapped. "He was a loyal warrior! Why would he do this to you?"

Sedgepaw stole a glance at Blueflower, only to be shocked once more. The warrior appeared… angry. At a time like this, Sedgepaw expected her to be overcome with grief or sympathy for Egretsong. Instead, she looked furious. Her blue eyes burned brighter than the stars. Sedgepaw almost felt scared by this unfamiliar face.

"I don't know, I… don't know," Egretsong whined. "We… were walking, and he turned to me. He apologized and-and after that… Just pain. Darkness." The she-cat was consumed by her sobs now. Her voice shook with such severity, Sedgepaw was surprised she even managed to speak.

"Enough of this," Heronpaw hissed. "Egretsong," his voice softened as he mewed, "let's go back to bed."

As Heronpaw ushered Egretsong to the back of the medicine den, Sedgepaw was left with Batface and Blueflower, stunned. She could not move or speak or think. Minnowtail was alive, but he attacked Egretsong and probably blinded her, all to set Scorchface free?

"If Egretsong is speaking the truth and not out of delusion," Batface murmured gravely, "then we have not one, but two fugitives on our paws." He shook his head, stepping out of his nest. Though he had a slight slimp, he moved across the den hastily. "We must alert the Clan," he mewed to Blueflower.

Blueflower was glaring at her paws. "Right, of course."

As the warriors turned to leave, Sedgepaw stood. Though her shoulder felt stiff, she was willing to help in any way possible. "What about me?"

Batface glanced back at her, hesitating outside the entrance to camp. "Your wounds were superficial. I'd suggest sleeping with the other apprentices tonight. This medicine den is about to become very popular."

Though Sedgepaw was disappointed by being sent to bed, she heeded the warning in her mentor's voice. Following behind Blueflower, she could see the slight bristle in the fur along her spine. She had never seen the warrior so upset.

"Are you okay?" she whispered to her as they stepped out of the medicine den and into camp.

Moonlight shone against Blueflower's bristling fur, and when the warrior glanced back at her, she was taken back by the coldness in her blue eyes. "Yes, I'm fine," she assured her. "Get some good rest, okay?" The strain in her voice was obvious, but Sedgepaw did not press more.

Scampering across the clearing, Sedgepaw decided she did not want to be out and about when Batface and Blueflower reported the news. Though Whitestar had not returned, she saw Spiderfang rushing to greet her mentor and Blueflower, likely noticing their disturbance.

Pushing through the entrance to the apprentices den, she saw that every nest was occupied. Pebblepaw and Toadpaw were already asleep, while Lilypaw fluffed at her moss, yawning. Yewpaw and Blackpaw were grooming each other, purring loudly. Ospreypaw was blankly staring at her paws while Mudpaw rattled on and on about a peculiar caterpillar he found by the elders den. Once Sedgepaw stepped in, the awake apprentices all stared her way.

"What's got you looking spooked?" Lilypaw chirped, whiskers twitching with amusement. "Did you get caught sneaking out again?"

"Egretsong woke up," Sedgepaw meowed, brushing off Lilypaw's attempt at humor. "She said… Minnowtail was the one that attacked her."

"What?!" Blackpaw bolted to his paws.

"That's awful!" Yewpaw squeaked.

Ospreypaw and Mudpaw both shared an alarmed glance as Sedgepaw made her way over to them and her nest. "Spiderfang is being notified now."

"This isn't good," Ospreypaw muttered. "The whole Clan is going to be in a panic."

"What if this means they'll delay our test?" Blackpaw fretted.

Mudpaw scoffed. "No way! Whitestar and Spiderfang said we new warriors now more than ever. Longscar told me so."

As the other apprentices went about discussing the unfolding events, Sedgepaw lowered her voice for only Mudpaw and Ospreypaw to hear. "This may be our only chance," she whispered. "I have to talk to you guys. We need to go to the Great Cypress tonight. Did you tell Yewpaw?"

"Yes," Ospreypaw mewed. "She knows we're leaving. Just give the signal and we will head out."

"Guys, this is so exciting… You don't even know," Mudpaw gushed.

Rolling her eyes, Sedgepaw settled in her nest. Outside the den, she could hear the warriors stirring and congregating in camp. Their hurried pawsteps patted on the ground like raindrops; it sounded like all the warriors were awake as news spread throughout camp. Before long, she could hear the caterwauls of pain and anger as the truth rang clear. Minnowtail betrayed them. The thought caused Sedgepaw's stomach to do backflips. Minnowtail betrayed them, and MarshClan would be out for blood.


	14. Tell the Truth, Shame the Devil

SILENCE hung heavy in MarshClan camp. As Sedgepaw lay staring at the ceiling of the apprentices den, she heard not a whisper from anyone outside. In her mind, she wrestled with a haze of fatigue and confusion. Minnowtail betrayed the Clan. He seriously wounded Egretsong and consequently let a convicted killer free. Sedgepaw rolled to her side, sighing. The weight of it all threatened to crush her skull. What did this mean?

The soft breaths of the other sleeping apprentices sparked a wave of envy in Sedgepaw. If only she could sleep so easily. When she was graced with shut eye, she was subsequently haunted by hellish dreams of blood and gore. She sat up in her mossy nest, staring at her paws. She felt surrounded by the unknown. So many questions. The prophecy, Vinestripe's fate, Blueflower's parents, Scorchface's innocence, and now, Minnowtail's betrayal… all the jagged pieces built a dagger that struck Sedgepaw's heart, dousing her with dread and doubt until she feared her chest would corrode. That's why she had to talk. She needed to tell her siblings and closest friend what clouded her mind, or risk losing herself to the storm forever. Maybe if she unshackled these words boggling her brain she would break from the bog.

Mudpaw was practically snoring in his nest while Ospreypaw and Yewpaw were nestled close, curled up in a peaceful slumber. Sedgepaw prodded at each of them, stirring them from sleep. If she was going to tell them the truth, she needed to do it now. Ospreypaw blinked her yellow eyes open first, staring up at Sedgepaw sleepily, before she shot upright and nodded. Yewpaw woke next, yawning softly, before carefully stepping out of her nest, not wanting to disturb Blackpaw as he rested beside her. Sedgepaw frowned when Mudpaw failed to wake. She glanced at Ospreypaw, only for her to shrug and roll her eyes. With a grunt, Sedgepaw poked at Mudpaw's face, watching her brother screw his face up in annoyance and open his eyes grudgingly. When his bright green eyes finally focused, he seemed to remember what was happening and rose to his paws eagerly.

"We're still doing this?" he whispered excitedly.

Sedgepaw nodded. "I need to tell you what's been going on… but I can't do it here."

Yewpaw and Ospreypaw followed Sedgepaw out into camp, with Mudpaw assuming the rear. Keeping to the shadows, they stalked along the outskirts of camp. The moon was only a small sliver of its full glory, looking like a tiny scratch in the vast indigo sky. The dark of night was almost at its most dominant, and it gave the apprentices plenty of shadows to stick to. Sedgepaw hesitated by the warriors den, keeping to the fringe of the plumegrass and knotweed that composed it. She could feel Ospreypaw, Yewpaw, and Mudpaw freeze behind her. They all stared at the guards posted outside the wall of sawgrass and maidencane that led to the marsh: Otternose and Dewpelt.

Sedgepaw gritted her teeth. Dewpelt would be easy to surpass, but Otternose? Her keen sense of smell could jeopardize their escape. She watched the dark brown she-cat as she slowly stalked along the entrance, amber eyes burning. Meanwhile, Dewpelt was busy grooming her dappled gray fur, likely taking a break from her watch.

"What do we do?" Yewpaw whispered fretfully.

"Distract and evade, duh," Mudpaw teased.

"Okay." Yewpaw huffed. "But how do we do it?"

Ospreypaw spoke up, "Maybe one of us could sneak into the sawgrass and make some noise to distract them?"

"You'd need to be fast to do that," Sedgepaw added, eyes narrowed as she tried to visualize the plan in her head.

Before long, Sedgepaw realized she and her siblings were all staring at Ospreypaw. The black and white she-cat glanced between them in surprise and then annoyance. "You can't mean me?"

"You are the fastest," Yewpaw pointed out apologetically.

"Don't be a wimp." Mudpaw prodded at her hindquarters, snickering. "The worst thing Otternose will do is talk your ears off about how mousebrained you are for trying to outsmart her."

"You can do it." Sedgepaw encouraged her friend with a smile. "Because if you don't, we'll all be in trouble," she deadpanned.

The apprentices all shared a soft laugh before Ospreypaw broke away from them. She nudged Sedgepaw playfully as she passed, prompting a smile from her. As Ospreypaw stealthily tiptoed into the sawgrass, she felt Yewpaw and Mudpaw come to stand by her side and press close. Sedgepaw strained her ears for Ospreypaw's movement within the grasses, but could only hear the croaking of a nearby toad and the gentle snores from the warriors den. Before long, all she could hear was her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Did Ospreypaw give up? She could feel Mudpaw growing restless beside her.

Then, a splash sounded from the grass, followed by the loud rustling of reeds. Sedgepaw stiffened. Mudpaw and Yewpaw were frozen against her. She could see Otternose's dark pelt prickle while Dewpelt hurried to her side, ears and tail raised in alarm. The two she-cats murmured to each other. Sedgepaw realized she was holding her breath while they coordinated. The earth seemed to stand still as the guards went silent, becoming dark statues in the night, gazing intently into the mass of grasses.

Sedgepaw flinched when Otternose crashed into the sawgrass, disappearing into the thick fronds. Dewpelt followed quietly, melting into the darkness, tail tip flicking like a metronome. It seemed like Otternose was trying to spook the source of the noise out while Dewpelt remained silent and hidden in the darkness. Otternose really was clever…

"We will have to be quick," Sedgepaw murmured.

Yewpaw and Mudpaw nodded in tandem. Briskly, Sedgepaw maneuvered toward the wall, pushing into the sawgrass with a grunt. The serrated edges of the foliage combed through her thick fur, snagging at the knots and tearing into her, slowing her. She could hear her slimmer siblings managing to slip through the blades with ease. Stifling her envy, she pressed on ardently, panting softly as her limbs fought the thickening mud. Closer, closer, faster, faster, she chanted in her head. Sedgepaw dared not freeze when a growl sounded nearby. She was unsure if it was Dewpelt or Otternose, but she knew she would not stay to find out. Yewpaw and Mudpaw were ahead of her now, plunging and jumping through the mud and maidencane, weaving and whipping along. Sedgepaw crashed through the thicket with a hiss. She could not be left behind! This was her own damn idea. The grasses grew taller as she trodded through the heart of the sawgrass field. Above, she could not capture a glimpse of the indigo sky. Nothing but black bog and ragged reeds surrounded her.

"I think I hear something!" Otternose hissed from behind. She sounded close.

Heart threatening to burst from her chest, Sedgepaw lunged through the thicket. She could feel her muscles scream for a break, throwing a tantrum as they spasmed, but Sedgepaw refused to give up. She needed to talk to her siblings and friend. She needed them to listen. The grasses bent and leaned to form a tunnel before her, and at the end she could see a dim light. Her escape! Sprinting for the end of the tunnel, she burst into the murky water with a splash.

Freed from the cover of the grasses, Sedgepaw could breathe easy again. Yewpaw and Mudpaw were both staring at her, wide-eyed, and Sedgepaw snorted at them. Snaking through the lily pads and water to come close to them, she relished the cool of it as it soaked halfway up her legs.

"Did you have a hard time getting through?" Mudpaw teased.

"Shut up," Sedgepaw snapped before snickered. "Let's just get out of here before Otternose realizes what's up."

"But what about Ospreypaw?" Yewpaw fretted.

Sedgepaw glanced back to the thicket. It was quiet. Then, a faint snapping noise. Sedgepaw's ears perked and eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out the source. When a slim, black and white she-cat peeked out from the stalks, she smiled.

"Ospreypaw!" Sedgepaw hissed, waving her feathery tail for her attention.

Her friend's yellow eyes glinted under the pale moon and she began to slowly make her way toward the group. Sedgepaw felt pride glow in her heart for her friend. No one could outrun Ospreypaw! When the apprentice regrouped, they all collectively shared a sigh of relief, followed by bouts of nervous chuckles.

"We made it!" Mudpaw crowed.

"Keep it down!" Ospreypaw hissed. "Otternose was not far behind me."

"What about Dewpelt?" Yewpaw wondered nervously.

"She probably noticed her own reflection and stopped to groom herself again," Mudpaw mocked, proceeding to pretend to see his own reflection in the gloomy swamp water with a prim look on his face and drag his paw along his whiskers to fan them out all fancy-like. "Great StarClan, I just can't defend the camp looking like this!" he mewed in a high-pitched voice.

Sedgepaw laughed, shaking her head. "Come on, the Great Cypress isn't too far away."

As the apprentices turned to leave, a loud crash sounded from the thicket. From the corner of her eye, Sedgepaw saw the sleek frame of Otternose. Even from afar, her amber eyes burned bright in the night.

"Get down!" Sedgepaw hissed.

She and the others lowered their bodies into the water so that only their heads and the ridge of their backs remained unsubmerged. Under the cover of darkness and the shroud of swamp water, they probably looked like clumps of peat among the bog. Sedgepaw barely breathed when Otternose scanned the marsh, her eyes roving over them keenly. She could see her lips parted to taste the air, and her tail was lashing with frustration. Dewpelt appeared behind her, yawning.

"It was probably just a marsh rabbit." Sedgepaw heard Dewpelt's annoyed mew and stifled a chuckle. "I don't know why you have your tail in a twist over a little splash."

"It was more than a little splash." Otternose's growl bordered on a snarl.

Sedgepaw remained still as a stone. It felt like moons passed before Otternose finally turned back to the wall of sawgrass. Tension released from her body in ripples. Dewpelt followed after her with a loud sigh. When the sound of their rustling retreat faded, Sedgepaw rose from the water with a loud exhale. Yewpaw, Mudpaw, and Ospreypaw followed her lead.

"That was close," Yewpaw squeaked timorously. "My tail was shaking so much I thought it would fall off."

"They're gone now, that's all that matters," Sedgepaw reassured her.

Quietly, Sedgepaw turned and led the way towards the cypress forest. Above the treeline that touched the stars, one dome stood higher than the rest: the Great Cypress. Its branches built a staircase toward the stars. Sedgepaw could remember how it felt to be at its peak. The wind in her fur, the sky in her eyes, and the taste of the heavens on her tongue. If not for her seeing that mysterious cat beyond the border, she may have stayed up there forever. Her stomach tightened when she realized that if she never fell, she never would have discovered the prophecy kept secret from her. How different would her life be?

Stepping onto the shore, Sedgepaw curled her toes in the supple sand with a sigh. Flanked by Ospreypaw and Mudpaw, she had to glance back to make sure Yewpaw was not far behind. Her sister seemed hesitant, hugging the shadow of the cattail reeds with a sullen look on her face.

"What's wrong, Yewpaw?" she asked.

Yewpaw's eyes searched the sandy shore for an answer. She shuffled her paws nervously. "I'm scared," she admitted. "I… don't like being out at night."

Yewpaw's tawny fur appeared almost black under the cover of night, and it hugged her petite frame, making her appear small and helpless. Sedgepaw's chest twisted with the need to protect her sister. "It'll be fine, you have us here to protect you," she promised.

"Yeah! I'll fight anyone that dares give us trouble!" Mudpaw piped up with a broad grin. "I got this one move that Longscar taught me, and hoo-ah, it'll bring a whirl of-"

"Mudpaw, please," Ospreypaw hushed.

Sedgepaw neared Yewpaw gingerly, pressing her nose to her sister's head. She felt rotten for dragging her out at night. Not only was it against the rules for apprentices to be out without a warrior at this time, Yewpaw had always been afraid of the dark. Her memories travelled back to their moons as kits, when Yewpaw never wanted to sneak out of the nursery after the sun went down, and Mudpaw would end up being Sedgepaw's only playmate under the stars.

"Just stick close to me," Sedgepaw murmured softly. "Nothing can harm you with us around."

Yewpaw nodded solemnly, eyes wide. Sedgepaw felt confused as she watched her sister's eyes dart from the bushes, to the corners of the forest, and to the shadows of the reeds, as if she was searching for something that obviously was not their. Her ears were trembling too, but Sedgepaw was not sure if it was because her sister heard something, or if she was trembling out of fear.

"We are here for you," Ospreypaw assured her, the words stiffly waddled off her tongue.

Sedgepaw stifled a chuckle. Watching Ospreypaw attempt to be comforting was like watching a turtle try to sprint. Rasping her tongue over Yewpaw's quivering ear, she nudged her onward into the forest. Frogs periodically screeched a reverberating solo as a chorus of crickets sang in the night. The air hung heavily, full of moisture. Sedgepaw grimaced against the humidity as it clung to her fur, an unwelcome passenger. The smooth, silvery trunks of the cypress trees glowed under the moonlight. Sedgepaw watched as Mudpaw weaved effortlessly through the forest with Ospreypaw close behind.

"Th-the Great Cypress… Why do we have to go there?" Yewpaw wondered, sounding spooked.

"It's far enough from camp that we will have privacy, and the sentinels rarely scout the Great Cypress at night," Sedgepaw explained as they ducked through a myrtle bush.

"There's a reason no sentinels go there at night," Yewpaw mewed frightfully.

"Oh, stars, not this story again!" Mudpaw groaned, gagging dramatically. "Please don't tell me you think they were serious?"

Ospreypaw blinked in confusion, staring back at Yewpaw curiously. "Story?" She slowed to walk beside Yewpaw. "What story?"

Sedgepaw frowned, she remembered Ospreypaw's mother rarely allowed her to listen to the nursery tales the queens shared. Kiteclaw was as stern a warrior as she was a mother. "It's not that exciting," Sedgepaw assured her, not wanting Ospreypaw to feel left out.

"It's said that the Great Cypress is possessed," Yewpaw mewed shakily. "By… Marshstar himself."

Ospreypaw snorted. "What? That's complete mousedung! Marshstar is in StarClan with the rest of our ancestors."

As they walked through the woods, Sedgepaw noticed the shadows growing. Gazing above, Sedgepaw could see the sky darkening through the tangled canopy of branches and moss. Clouds were gathering. In the dark of night, it was impossible to tell if a storm rested in their bellies.

"Marshstar is said to have given his last life to the Great Cypress," Yewpaw went on, voice just above a whisper. "He wanted to be sure that a piece of him remained in the forest, to stay close to the Clan forever."

Mudpaw stopped and turned, his toothy grin glinting in the dark. "And if any one dares to venture to his final resting place at night," he interrupted animatedly, "he will possess the roots of the Great Cypress and drag you down to stay with him forever!"

Yewpaw shivered against Sedgepaw. When she spoke, her voice was stronger, holding a warning, "Mudpaw, you shouldn't make fun of the legend. Remember what Fernstream said: there's a bit of truth-"

"In all the tales," Mudpaw interrupted again, finishing their mother's saying while rolling his eyes.

Ospreypaw was giggling, glancing between the siblings with amusement. "Good story, Yewpaw." She smiled. "Even if it's true, I think being near Marshstar is the safest place to be."

Sedgepaw nodded. "Marshstar always wanted the best for his Clan."

Yewpaw shrugged, not looking convinced. "I guess we are about to find out."

Emerging from the ferns, the apprentices entered the clearing that surrounded the Great Cypress. With the moonlight suffocated from the sky by the clouds, light was dead. A miasma of blackness cast its claws from the shadows all around. The massive cypress tree stood strong against the dark, its gnarled roots casting claws of their own deep into the earth. Everything was so fierce and sharp and bleak. Sedgepaw doubted if this was the right place, the right time… No! She shook her head, stepping out into the open with a soft sigh. This was her time. She had to.

"It's quiet," Ospreypaw observed.

Mudpaw and Yewpaw followed sitting between the roots as Sedgepaw perched herself on one. Ospreypaw sat beside them, gazing up at the vast cypress with wide eyes. Sedgepaw remembered the last time she and Ospreypaw were here, she nearly plummeted to her death from the crown of the Great Cypress.

"Thank you guys for coming," Sedgepaw mewed. A bundle of nerves unfurled within her, causing her tongue to feel heavy. As the apprentices all stared at her with curious and concerned eyes, she struggled to find the courage to continue. "I… know I've been acting distant lately, and I'm sorry, but there… there's just been so much on my mind!"

"Is this about the test?" Mudpaw wondered, eyes narrowed.

"Not at all." Sedgepaw stared at her paws, and with a sigh, she found the resolve to continue. "When I fell from the Great Cypress, I was in the medicine den for a few days. In those days, I… I learned something."

Sedgepaw noticed Yewpaw was staring at the base of the trunk, shivering. Sedgepaw felt a pang of hurt. Was her sister even listening?

"Go on," Ospreypaw encouraged sternly. "Don't leave us hanging."

"I… overheard Fernstream and Redleaf talking about a prophecy."

"Oh! Cool!" Mudpaw hissed excitedly.

Sedgepaw shook her head. "No, it wasn't cool… It was a prophecy... about us. Me, you, and Yewpaw," she explained, gesturing to Mudpaw before flicking her tail at Yewpaw.

Ospreypaw seemed resigned as she went on, her face twisted in contemplation.

"The birth of three who were not meant to be will give rise to revolution," Sedgepaw recited the prophecy carefully, not wanting for leave out a single word.

"Not meant to be… meaning us?" Yewpaw mewed, sounding bewildered. "We weren't meant to be born?"

"Not in StarClan's eyes. Our mother, Fernstream, was supposed to become medicine cat, according to Redleaf. By having us, she went against StarClan."

"That's complete mousedung!" Mudpaw was seized by a fit of chuckles, but Sedgepaw could see the growing fear in his green eyes. "Fernstream always has and always will be a warrior!"

"It was not always this way, Mudpaw," Sedgepaw argued, face feeling hot. She did not think she would have to debate with her siblings about the prophecy. "Redleaf got into a bad argument with our mother about it… She used to be his apprentice."

"So… she defied StarClan?" Yewpaw's pelt was prickling with unease. Sedgepaw could smell the rank scent of fear emanating from her. "Does… does this mean we are doomed?"

Ospreypaw remained silent, when Sedgepaw looked to her friend, she looked away. Her heart lurched. Maybe this was a mistake? She dug her claws into the root she sat on, scratching at it.

"I think you guys are missing the point. Who cares if we weren't meant to be born, it happened. We are here now, there's nothing StarClan can do about it," Sedgepaw growled in defiance. She gazed at the gloomy sky above, but the stars that condemned their birth were hidden.

"They could kill us," Yewpaw fretted.

"Ugh, would you shut up?" Mudpaw snapped. "Get a grip! Sedgepaw is clearly making this up to scare us." His glare fell on Sedgepaw, his chuckling growing hollow. "Come on, you got us. Good one. Let's just go to camp and pretend this never happened."

Sedgepaw stood fast. "It's not a joke, Mudpaw." Her tone was serious, but laced with frustration. "Forget about the 'not meant to be' bit, it's the revolution that's been on my mind! Doesn't that concern you?"

Mudpaw shuffled his paws, avoiding Sedgepaw's stare. "This is dumb," he muttered. "I'm not going to start a revolution. And I am meant to be here." He shook his head. His voice was hardened by his resolve, but the words broke in his throat. "The prophecy is wrong. You're a fool for letting it bother you."

Ospreypaw spoke up, her voice calm, "Lightningstar began a revolution. He was a hero. Perhaps you are destined to be heroes?"

Her sentiment stirred hope in Sedgepaw. "I just want to know where we stand," she reiterated solemnly. "This has been on my mind for days… I was hoping speaking to you guys would help me."

"You're wasting your energy," Mudpaw mewed, shaking his head. "This prophecy isn't worth worrying over. We're as normal as Ospreypaw and the others. There's nothing special about us."

"You're not listening!" Sedgepaw snapped. "Don't you understand what a prophecy is? We are going to fulfill it whether we choose to or not. We can't choose our fate when it's already been mapped out by the stars!" She was screeching now, growing desperate as her siblings and friend seemed to be shying away from the truth.

"You're letting all this get to your head," Mudpaw growled. "We are normal cats, and we will have a normal life. If Fernstream wasn't supposed to have us, she wouldn't have. She is a good and loyal MarshClan cat!"

"How could you say that?" Sedgepaw demanded. "She loves us more than anything. You think she'd choose to be medicine cat over a mother?"

"I—I don't know what she would do. This… this isn't making sense to me," Mudpaw admitted through gritted teeth. "I wish you never told me this."

Sedgepaw flinched back from her brother. A shadow was cast over his face, but she could see the pain in his eyes. What have I done? she asked herself.

Sedgepaw looked to Yewpaw. "Do you feel the same way?"

"I… don't know how I feel, Sedgepaw," Yewpaw admitted shakily. "This is a lot for us to handle." She looked to the sky. "Whatever StarClan has planned for us, I believe with all my heart we are destined to do good." Yewpaw brushed against Mudpaw, comforting him, but he shrugged her off. "We are good cats. All of us. But I don't think we would need to start a revolution to prove it."

Ospreypaw cleared her throat, shifting in her seat uncomfortably. "I think you gave us all a lot to think about." She smiled nervously at Sedgepaw. "I'm not good with all this… spiritual stuff, but I feel like StarClan saying that you shouldn't have been born is a little… weird."

"It's 'weird' because it's not true!" Mudpaw spat. "Sedgepaw, you've got to snap out of it. You cooked all this up in your head while you were bedridden in the medicine den. Don't you see?"

"No, Mudpaw," Sedgepaw growled. "I know it's true. I know it is because… because Redleaf tried to kill me."

A small whimper escaped Yewpaw.

"Great StarClan, you've lost your mind!" Mudpaw mewed in disbelief.

Ospreypaw leaned in close to Sedgepaw. "Do you know what you just said?" she hissed, eyes wide with shock. "Any cat, let alone the medicine cat, could be seriously punished for making an attempt on a Clanmate's life."

"But he had good reason to." Sedgepaw's rebuttal was accented by a firm stomp on the root she sat upon. "The prophecy! Redleaf represents the will of StarClan! Maybe he tried to carry out their wishes?"

"Sedgepaw… you're scaring me," Yewpaw whined, backing away from her.

"Please," Sedgepaw begged. "You have to believe me. When I began vomiting, I saw small white flowers in it—flowers that were never in the remedies he gave me before!"

"You reacted to a new herb. So what?" Mudpaw countered, shrugging his shoulders. "You're going crazy. I should've listened to Longscar…"

"What?" Sedgepaw snapped, eyes narrowing.

Mudpaw rolled his eyes. "He said he caught you hanging out with Blueflower, asked if I knew anything about you two, and I said no… because I don't."

"Sedgepaw settle down," Ospreypaw whispered.

Sedgepaw's pelt was bristling and her golden eyes blazed like fire. Longscar was the one! The one placing doubt in her brother's mind… He was stealing Mudpaw's trust in her.

Mudpaw continued, "Blueflower is a shifty she-cat, Sedgepaw. You can't trust her. Her parents were traitors. She's probably the one confusing you." Her brother stepped closer. "She's probably the reason you're acting this way!"

"This has nothing to do with her," Sedgepaw bellowed. "You're the one being fooled. Your mentor is a paranoid freak!"

"Better than a batty fool like your new friend," Mudpaw retorted, spitting.

"Take it back!" Sedgepaw hissed.

"Please, calm down!" Yewpaw pleaded. "Don't fight."

"Yeah, enough of this." Ospreypaw stood between them, her eyes hard on Sedgepaw. "We need to sleep on what's been said and retire for the night, before you two do something you'll both regret."

"I already have," Sedgepaw mewed sadly, voice breaking. "I should've never told you any of this. I just wanted someone to talk to." She felt like her insides were being corroded away, melting to puddles of bile that sat heavy in her stomach. "I thought you all, out of anyone, would believe me."

Mudpaw backed away, towards the forest. "I'm sorry, Sedgepaw, but this… this just can't happen." He was shaking his head. "I love you, I really do, but I can't accept what you believe. My life was just fine before you said this!" He wailed, shutting his eyes as if to blind himself from the pain. The truth. "Don't talk to me about this again."

Turning for the woods, Mudpaw ran off into the shadows. Yewpaw watched him go, forlorn. Sedgepaw gazed at her sister feeling her heart break all over again as she moved to go after their brother.

"Sedgepaw…" Yewpaw mewed softly. "I want to believe you, but I don't know how. Please, forgive me." She slowly backed away. "I… should go after Mudpaw. He shouldn't be alone right now."

As Yewpaw left the clearing, a warm breeze filtered through. The Great Cypress shivered, sending small patches of low-hanging moss to its knees, which jutted out like fangs from the earth. Sedgepaw felt suffocated by the heat, and she gazed at the sky for answers, but all she could see was a mass of dusky gray. The heavy clouds rumbled with thunder, and large, warm drops fell from their faces as they cried on the earth.

Ospreypaw remained standing before Sedgepaw, staring at her with an unreadable expression. "I just don't know what I'm going to do with you," she confessed, sounding tired.

"You could leave," Sedgepaw offered. "Just like everyone else."

She shook her head. "Then I'd be alone too." She glared at the sky as the rain slowly fell. "I know this prophecy is not mine… but whatever it means, it'll never stop me from being your friend."

Sedgepaw nodded slowly before she collapsed into Ospreypaw with a heavy sigh, pressing her head into her chest. Ospreypaw stiffened and cleared her throat before she allowed her chin to rest on Sedgepaw's neck.

"I don't know what to do," Sedgepaw admitted softly.

"That's okay," Ospreypaw murmured, sounding uncertain but still pressing close. "Just be you?" Her words of comfort were phrased like a question.

"I feel like the earth, the sun, the moon, the stars are all going to collapse on top of me. How can I fight them all?"

"I'm sure you'll manage. You're pretty tough," Ospreypaw joked. Her awkward laugh tapered off and she sighed; Sedgepaw could feel her warm breath on her shoulders. "You don't need to defeat the force of nature or rival the power of the stars. You don't have to conquer it all, Sedgepaw. Sometimes, the answer is not to fight."

"But if I don't fight, how can I win?"

"Knowing when not to fight is the greatest victory of all."

"Tch," Sedgepaw sniffled. "Since when did you get so wise?" She leaned back and was surprised to see Ospreypaw looking melancholy. Raindrops slid from her whiskers to the ground. When they locked eyes, it faded, and she mustered a smile.

"I've always been like this. You just never shut up and listen to me," she pointed out curtly, raising her chin.

"Thank you." Sedgepaw whispered after a break of silence emerged between them.

Ospreypaw shrugged. "What are friends for?"

A loud snapping noise sounded from behind the Great Cypress, causing both apprentices to nearly jump out of their fur. Sedgepaw unsheathed her claws first. The snap was followed by a rustling noise. Sedgepaw thought she could hear whispering.

"Alright, no games," she warned in a growl. "Come out before I make you."

Ospreypaw was beside her, glaring into the shadows.

"Rats!" A voice squeaked. "We've been found!"

"Told ya this was a shoddy hiding spot," another grumbled.

"W-we're coming!" A third's voice sounded like the peal of a bell. "J-Just don't eat us! It was Hawthornkit's idea!"

"Hawthornkit?" Sedgepaw echoed, bristling. Her heart sunk. So they were followed… but not by the guards. No, worse. The kits. Sedgepaw groaned. "Get out here, you three."

Magnoliakit tumbled over the roots first, her stark white fur sticking out in the darkness. She was followed by Foxkit next, then Hawthornkit. They all bumbled toward the apprentices, looking sheepish.

"It's Hawthornkit's fault. He chose the worst hiding spot," Foxkit complained, glaring at the smaller tom.

Hawthornkit's brown and white fur fluffed out in offense. "Hey! We didn't ask you to come!"

"Ugh, enough squabbling. I've had more than my share of it tonight," Ospreypaw ordered.

"Sorry," Hawthornkit mewed, ducking his head.

"What are you doing out here?" Sedgepaw demanded.

"Spying," Foxkit admitted. "We saw you guys sneak out… We wanted to come too!"

"I didn't!" Magnoliakit clarified. "I just wanted to make sure no one got hurt."

Ospreypaw and Sedgepaw exchanged glances. How much did these kits hear? Sedgepaw lowered herself to the kits level, eyes glowing.

"So, how did your spying mission go?" she asked conspiratorially. "What did you learn?"

All the kits snickered and exchanged glances. They seemed to like that Sedgepaw was playing along.

Foxkit spoke up, "We saw you two cuddling!"

Hawthornkit giggled. "Yeah, being all mushy and stuff! Gross." He stuck out his tongue. "When I'm an apprentice, I'm just gonna be the best fighter! I'm not gonna be all lovey-dovey like you two."

"Wh-What?" Ospreypaw wheezed, coughing after swallowing the wrong way. She bristled. "It's definitely not like that!"

Sedgepaw sighed in relief. At least that's all they seemed to notice. Even if it wasn't true, Sedgepaw would rather have them believe she was going out with Ospreypaw than being a part of a prophecy.

"But we don't know where Yewpaw and Mudpaw went… so our mission wasn't that good." Magnoliakit's ears dropped as she mewed.

"Forget about them!" Foxkit laughed. "This is way funnier. Just wait til I tell Hollyfoot!"

Sedgepaw nudged Ospreypaw with a chuckle, seeing her friend's face spasm in embarrassment. "Look at that, we're rumored lovers," she teased.

"You're incorrigible," Ospreypaw hissed, shaking her head. "Come on, let's get these guys back to camp before they're missed."

"Awww, do we have to go back?" Hawthornkit whined.

"Yeah! This place is way cool at night!" Foxkit protested.

Magnoliakit was already hopping beside Ospreypaw as she made her way toward the forest. "I think it's creepy!" she called back.

"Go on," Sedgepaw ordered, nudging Foxkit forward with her paw. The older kit growled and ran off, his short ginger tail sticking straight up. Hawthornkit followed after him, smiling goofily at Sedgepaw as he passed.

Shaking her head, Sedgepaw smiled as she watched the kits go after Ospreypaw. Another breeze rolled through the clearing. Sedgepaw's ears flicked when she thought she heard a whisper carried in it. Rain and thunder sounded around her, but the whisper was louder.

"Sedgepaw," it seemed to say. She turned to the Great Cypress when the whisper sounded closer. "Sedgepaw."

Narrowing her eyes, Sedgepaw thought she saw a face in the ripples and whorls of the tree trunk. It looked like a cat with long, drooping whiskers and half-shut eyes.

"Marshstar?" she murmured, fur prickling.

"We're always watching," the voice uttered softly, sounding like a wheeze in the breeze. "Do… not… doubt… us."

A flash of lightning flickered above, followed by the roar of thunder. Sedgepaw's fur turned white as snow when she thought she saw a gray silhouette of a cat against the tree trunk, its stormy blue eyes burning like the lightning that crashed above.

Backing away, Sedgepaw nearly bowled over herself when she tripped on a root. She turned to run for Ospreypaw, and the voice echoed from the tree.

"Let us help."


	15. Gwas-y-neidr

MAKING their way toward MarshClan camp, Sedgepaw felt a pit of dread in her stomach. She did not expect the night to end this way. She thought her siblings would be rallying to find the truth, or at least support her. Instead, she felt a fissure dividing them, shaking the earth at its roots and causing her bones to perpetually rattle with the feeling of loneliness. At least she was able to walk beside Ospreypaw. At their paws, Hawthornkit was hopping around, blissfully unaware of the hurt inside Sedgepaw.

Magnoliakit and Foxkit were quietly walking side-by-side, gazing at the storm clouds as they flashed with lightning and bellowed. Magnoliakit was dwarfed by Foxkit, her stumpy legs struggling to plod along as the earth began to soften with rain water. Sedgepaw smiled to herself, remembering when she would wander out with Mudpaw in the middle of the night.

The echo of Mudpaw's laughter reached Sedgepaw's ears and she sighed forlornly. If only she could walk back in time, to the days when they would run through the forest with the warm breeze in their fur and sunshine in their smiles.

The thunder booming above reminded Sedgepaw of where she walked. Her reverie was cut short by the storming sky, and she felt alone. At least she had Ospreypaw. She glanced at her friend, watching the she-cat gaze sullenly into the underbrush, head low. Sedgepaw frowned and nudged her with her shoulder as they passed side by side. Ospreypaw glanced her way and smirked but remained silent. Sedgepaw's frown deepened as they continued to retreat to camp. Rain was starting to fall faster, the splashes filling the air with ambient noise, loud enough to qualm the rolling tide of questions still assaulting Sedgepaw's brain.

For better or worse, tonight, everything changed.

Thunder rolled above. Sedgepaw moved faster as rain began to pour, following Ospreypaw through the marsh. There was at least one more cat that could help Sedgepaw: Fernstream. She delayed the confrontation long enough. It was time to get answers straight from the source. Since Mudpaw and Yewpaw were in denial, she would have to go to their mother alone.

As they snuck back into camp, Sedgepaw skirted the warriors den, glancing back to make sure all three kits remained. Foxkit led the troop, nudging Magnoliakit along as she yawned. Sedgepaw smiled. He cared well for his Clanmates. She hoped he would be given a mentor that nurtured his gentleness, not squash it.

"Be careful when you return," Sedgepaw warned as the kits walked passed her. "You don't want to wake your mothers."

"We will!" Hawthornkit squeaked.

"Shhhhh!" Foxkit hushed, eyes narrowing.

"Oh, I mean… We will," Hawthornkit whispered, nodding.

Sedgepaw smiled and shook her head, waving them on with her feathery tail. As the kits ventured back to the nursery, Sedgepaw's eyes glinted when she realized the trio were going around the back of the den-likely escaping through a hole before. She would remember to "suggest" the nursery be re-fortified at a later time. It was not until she was sure that the kits were back in their den that she began to make her way toward the apprentices den with Ospreypaw at her side.

Camp was oddly empty. The guards were likely making their rounds within the wall of sawgrass, for not even they haunted the clearing. Sedgepaw felt a strange sense of unease overcome her. It took Ospreypaw flicking her shoulder with her tail tip to snap her out of it. Blinking slowly, she shook her head and followed Ospreypaw to the apprentices den. When she entered, she could see everyone was still sound asleep, and Mudpaw and Yewpaw were curled up close together.

As she stepped into her nest, she felt hollow. Though her siblings and Ospreypaw laid close to her, she felt like they were far away. Did she drive a stake into their relationships? Though Ospreypaw attempted to comfort her, she could still very well turn her back on her. Sedgepaw pressed close to her friend and squeezed her eyes shut, silently praying for her continued support.

For once, Sedgepaw did not dream. Instead, she was swallowed by sleep, and Sedgepaw relished the darkness. Thunder continued to rumble through the night, and the sound of rainfall lulled the apprentice into a deep slumber.

When Sedgepaw opened her eyes again, she could see pale sunlight filtering through the den. Stretching her legs, she felt her muscles unwind and smiled contentedly. It was not until her golden eyes blinked away their fatigue that she realized she overslept… again.

Bolting out of her nest, Sedgepaw felt clumps of moss sticking to her pelt. Mud flaked from her toes and legs as she ran outside the den, still caked onto her fur from her excursion the night before. The clearing in camp was lit with pinkish hues that were speckled with orange as dawn matured into day. Silvery clouds remained suspended in the pastel sky, lingering from the storm that ravaged the night. Tamed by time, the clouds slowly crawled across the rays of sunlight, dimming their brightness. Sedgepaw's eyes widened with confusion when she noticed the buzz of commotion hum in the warm morning air, for cats were gathering enmasse before the Fallen Cypress. Did she miss something?

Looking like a muddy dandelion, she stepped toward the crowd of MarshClan cats, but halted in her advance when she heard a bout of giggles. Pebblepaw and Lilypaw were staring at her with laughter in their eyes. She bristled, making her already spiky and unkempt fur look more severe.

"What a looker," Lilypaw teased, green eyes glinting. The she-cat's white fur was sleek and prim; she was just as well-groomed as her mother.

"Sheesh, Sedgepaw, did you wake up on the wrong side of the nest?" Pebblepaw chuckled, his whiskers twitching. When she glared at him, he choked up with a nervous snicker. "Kidding… kidding…."

Before Sedgepaw could manage a retort, Fernstream was upon her. Sedgepaw hissed in surprise when her mother started grooming her and tending to her fur vigorously. Hissing in surprise, Sedgepaw backed away, frazzled.

"Fernstream! I can groom myself you know," Sedgepaw snapped.

"There's no time." Fernstream's eyes were wide. She rasped her tongue over her white chest anxiously. "Whitestar has moved up your test. You will be taking it today!"

Sedgepaw felt the ground give way beneath her. The test was today? Her golden eyes flashed with alarm when she realized what that meant. By sundown, she could become a warrior. But… She still felt soreness in her shoulder, and despite her deep sleep, she wasted a good night's rest on her failed meeting with her siblings.

As Fernstream resumed grooming her, Sedgepaw joined in the fervent licks. She felt a rattle in her brain that turned to drone and then a holler. Today was the day. Today was the day! It felt like eternity before she was clean and presentable again. When Fernstream regarded her, there was a soft smile on her mother's face and relief glistened in her eyes.

"You look tired," she murmured gently.

Sedgepaw shrugged. "My nest is getting too small."

Purring, Fernstream touched her nose to Sedgepaw's ear. "Well, tonight, you will have a warrior's nest." Her mother sighed, her eyes grazing over her daughter. "How do you feel?"

"Uhm… confused, honestly." Sedgepaw shuffled her white paws. "Batface made it seem like the test would not be for a few more days."

"I know." Fernstream's features darkened. "I'm not sure what's going on, but we got the word this morning." Shaking her head, she nudged her shoulder. "There's no use dwelling on it now, though. Today is your day, and I know you will do well. Go join your siblings, they're waiting near the Fallen Cypress."

"Okay." Before Sedgepaw went too far, she hesitated. "Fernstream…"

Fernstream paused, for she was about to join the group of MarshClan cats gathering before the Fallen Cypress. "Yes?"

"Can… can we talk later?" Sedgepaw asked. "It's important."

A small smile crossed Fernstream's face. "Of course. You can always talk to me."

Smiling, Sedgepaw nodded before scampering across the clearing to the Fallen Cypress. She could see her siblings assembled as the upturned roots that fanned out like spider legs. Dust and mold collected at their tips, revealing the tree's age. Many apprentices before them sat beneath these roots, waiting to be called to the center of the Clan to accept their test, and many more would come to await the same challenge. As Sedgepaw took her place beside the apprentices, she felt of rush of pride surge within her. Despite her misgivings from the night prior, she felt ready to take on the world today. To think, this moment was within arm's reach… She made it.

Yewpaw looked like a viper sat before her, for she was frozen in terror. Her green eyes bulged with such fear that Sedgepaw thought they would pop out of her skull. Before she could offer reassurance, Blackpaw was by her side, rasping his tongue across her shoulder. Sedgepaw bristled, eyeing him suspiciously. Perhaps he did care for her? Watching Yewpaw lean against him, Sedgepaw's heart longed for the same closeness. Her mind immediately went to Blueflower. She began to look for her long, blue-gray fur in the crowd of MarshClan cats congregated before the fallen tree where Whitestar slept, but did not see her.

Sedgepaw turned her attention back to the gathered apprentices, seeing her brother chucking alongside Toadpaw. He seemed to sense her stare, for he glanced up and they locked eyes. Sedgepaw opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but words escaped her. She did not know where to start. Mudpaw pulled his eyes away from her, ears flattening. Toadpaw did not seem to notice his change of expression, for he continued chortling and making fun of Blackpaw for his closeness to Yewpaw.

When she felt a tug at her tail, Sedgepaw bristled, spinning to see Ospreypaw grinning at her with a Her face softened. At least someone managed a smile.

"Can you believe this?" Ospreypaw asked, sitting beside her.

"No," Sedgepaw murmured. "But… I am glad this day has come. I've been waiting for it my whole life."

Ospreypaw purred and leaned against her. "Did you know this was going to happen?"

"Batface told me it would not come for a few more days… Fernstream told me this came as a surprise to everyone."

"I wonder what could be the cause of it…"

Sedgepaw refrained from speaking again, for emerging from the curtain of moss that framed her den within the Fallen Cypress was Whitestar. Her sleek white fur gleamed like an ivory fang under the pale sunlight, and her eyes burned bright. Sedgepaw felt a shiver go down her spine as the leader scanned the apprentices lined up for the test. A ghost of a smile appeared on her muzzle, and it vanished as she leapt from the ground to the fallen tree silently.

"Good morning, MarshClan," she greeted proudly. "I thank you all for meeting me this morning. I am sure many of you are curious as to what today shall entail and why, and I assure you, all will become clear."

As she made her announcement, Sedgepaw noticed Spiderfang making his way to the foot of the Fallen Cypress, and he was followed by young Foxkit and his mother, Hollyfoot. Sedgepaw's eyes narrowed in confusion. Was he in trouble?

Whitestar sounded solemn as she continued. She sat, poised, with her tail wrapped neatly around her paws. Her amber eyes gazed down at her Clan astutely, and her lips were pressed thin in a tight frown. "My Clan, we gather under the morning sun with heavy hearts and troubled minds. I can see the pain and confusion in your eyes." She bowed her head. "After returning from the Lunar Cavern, I was greeted by abhorrent news regarding Minnowtail's whereabouts. Our warrior and friend, Egretsong, revealed that it was Minnowtail that attacked her and consequently let Scorchface walk free."

From the crowd, restless murmurs and angered hisses arose. Sedgepaw watched her Clanmates' faces contort in hatred at the mention of Minnowtail and Scorchface. She felt unease prickle along her spine. Though she understood why Whitestar would need to discuss the bloody truth, she did not like having to hear of it on her test day. It felt almost like a bad omen.

"It took the night for me to sleep on this revelation, and I've come to realize…" Whitestar paused, her amber eyes flashing. The Clan was silent as their leader spoke. Her voice was strong and clear, glacial. The words she spoke were undeniable, for she carefully articulated each syllable, and they rolled off her tongue like droplets of silver. "Our Clan is infested. For Minnowtail to act with such precision and coordinate so carefully, I have no doubt that he did not act alone. There is descenters in MarshClan, and they collude with the Fallen."

Alarm and fear arose, bubbling over from the gathered cats, forming a wave that crashed into Sedgepaw, tainting her tongue with the saline brine of fear. She shriveled as it dehydrated her of her composure. Spies? Her golden eyes flashed. Who would turn against the Clan, and why? Sedgepaw harkened back to her vision of Vinestripe, the scarlet smile against his throat, and the nightmares that haunted her as she slept. Maybe there was a reason to betray MarshClan… Sedgepaw could not shake the suspicion that something was amiss. She was beginning to think the prophecy had something to do with it.

"Alas!" Whitestar continued, her voice silencing the crowd. "I now must call on my loyal Clanmates to remain vigilant during these uncertain moons. When our friends and family are willing to turn against us, now is the time, more than ever, to show good judgment and character. Now is the time to strengthen MarshClan, so we may persevere against those that dare to rise against us."

As the whole of MarshClan murmured in agreement, Spiderfang began to nudge Foxkit into the center of the clearing. The apprentice's yellow eyes were wide, and when he gazed up at Whitestar, he shrunk back. He appeared confused, looking to Spiderfang for guidance. The deputy nodded slowly, amber eyes blazing with an eerie eagerness that made Sedgepaw feel nauseous. She did not like the way her deputy stared at the kit.

"As a temporary initiative, we will star training kits when they are five moons old, rather than six. However, if the parents of said kits are willing, and my senior warriors see fit to agree, they can start their training earlier." A sharp grin cut across Whitestar's muzzle as she spoke. "Hollyfoot and Claytooth agree that Foxkit is strong enough to begin his training now, and I know in my heart StarClan will accept this decision, for it will make MarshClan a stronger, safer place."

Sedgepaw glanced at Ospreypaw, noting her friend's uncertainty. "At least it's only temporary," Sedgepaw whispered to her reassuringly. "He's a tough little mite! This'll be a stroll for him." Though Whitestar's initiative was unsettling, there was little that could be done to oppose it. The leader's word was law.

"Right," Ospreypaw agreed. "Foxkit is strong and mature. He'll do well." She shook her head. "Whitestar is a wise leader," she murmured. "She always knows what's best for our Clan."

Though Ospreypaw sounded resolute, Sedgepaw did not feel so certain. Though Foxkit was bright and thoughtful, he was still young, and Sedgepaw was familiar with the dangers he could face as an apprentice. She only hoped he received a mentor that was considerate of his age. At least when Lilypaw and Pebblepaw became apprentices they were on the cusp of their sixth moon. Foxkit only just turned four. Sedgepaw sent a silent prayer to StarClan that he would be safe.

Whitestar lifted her chin and proclaimed the preface to all apprentice ceremonies proudly, "The desire to achieve, the ambition to succeed, these are the traits of a warrior. MarshClan thrives on the will of its members to serve the stars, protect the code, and defend our livelihood."

From the crowd, Sedgepaw spotted the broad shoulders and gleaming yellow eyes of Grayjaw making his way around the group to come alongside Spiderfang at the foot of the Fallen Cypress. The permanent grimace on his face remained as he locked eyes with Foxkit. Sedgepaw's heart sank. Of all the warriors to choose…

"Foxkit, from this day until the consummation of your warrior ceremony, you will learn our ways and uphold our beliefs with every fiber of your being. You will learn to wield your strength and execute your knowledge in the name of MarshClan."

Doe-eyed, Foxkit nodded, and Grayjaw slowly stepped forward to the ginger kit. As Whitestar watched from above, her smile grew more prominent. "Grayjaw, you are one of my most reliable warriors, for your determination to serve and succeed trump your whims and fears. I entrust Foxkit to you so he may share your strength and willpower and become as great a warrior as you are."

"I accept this duty with honor," Grayjaw rumbled. Leaning in, he moved to rest his head on Foxkit's, and the young tom rasped his tongue across the warrior's massive shoulder without hesitation.

"MarshClan, let us celebrate our newest apprentice: Foxpaw! May his training be full of success!"

"Foxpaw! Foxpaw! Foxpaw!" MarshClan chanted their newest apprentice's name proudly.

Sedgepaw joined in, but her voice fell short when she noticed a pair of dragonflies, spiraling in midair. At first, she was entranced by their grace. One gleamed a golden brown, the other was a deep red, and in their dance they resembled an ember lapping at the ridge of the sky where pastel pink bled to pale blue. As she continued to admire their dance, her eyes widened when she realized they were not dancing at all… instead, she realized the red dragonfly was striking at the golden one, for it pulled back only to twirl and collide once more. The golden one seemed to only want to escape to the heavens, flying persistently higher, but it too eventually fell to violence, clashing with the red dragonfly persistently until both were embittered in a knot.

The chanting began to fade, and Sedgepaw was forced to return her gaze to Whitestar, she was nodding appreciatively at her Clan. The white she-cat raised her tail for attention once more. "A new apprentice is not all we have to celebrate today." Her amber eyes fell to the gathered apprentices, and Sedgepaw averted her stare, instead gazing into the crowd of MarshClan cats with a sudden spark of adrenaline. This was her time now.

"As we strive to strengthen MarshClan, we call upon our youth to embellish our ranks and kindle our fire. Our need for warriors has only grown. With the Fallen at our borders, wanting to take what StarClan has so graciously blessed us with, we need to go to sleep knowing that we are safe. So, I have decided to expedite the final test for our senior apprentices."

Sedgepaw watched as Blackpaw moved forward, moving towards the center of the crowd. He sat before Whitestar with his chest raised and chin held high. His green eyes were gleaming with pride. Yewpaw followed gingerly behind him, sitting close by his side. Her eyes were on her paws.

Sedgepaw realized they were to all take their place before Whitestar. Her heart fluttered. This was it. She stood, watching as Toadpaw lumbered out from under the branches, followed by Mudpaw. She swallowed her excitement, though is jostled her frame with electricity. As Ospreypaw moved to the clearing, Sedgepaw hurriedly trailed her. Together, the apprentices sat, staring up at Whitestar, awaiting their fate.

"StarClan hear my words," Whitestar began the hallowed welcome all leaders make to apprentices accepting their final test. "It gives me great joy to announce that today these young cats will be embarking on their final test as apprentices of MarshClan."

Sedgepaw could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She dug her claws into the dirt, gazing with anticipation as Whitestar continued.

"They will be tested on their scholarship, speed, strength, and spirit. Having trained with their partner and mentor for six moons, this test will be their final challenge, and should they succeed, they shall be dubbed warriors of MarshClan."

From the crowd, their mentors emerged, filing through the gathered cats in an organized line. Leading it was Shaleheart, and his golden eyes were bright with joy as he sat before Blackpaw with a smile. Palemist was close behind him, and Sedgepaw was taken back by the beauty of her pale silver fur and icy blue eyes. She calmly sat before Yewpaw with a reassuring grin on her fair face. Sandthroat shuffled passed her with a lopsided grin, which turned into a toothy smile when he sat before Toadpaw; his creamy fur maintained its scruffiness despite his obvious efforts to slick it down with several licks. Longscar shrugged passed with a soft grumble, his dark gray fur gleaming, and he regarded Mudpaw with a nod, but not before sliding his amber gaze passed him to glare at Sedgepaw. She met his glare defiantly. She would not forget what he told Mudpaw about Blueflower. If Longscar wanted to make an enemy of her, Sedgepaw was up to the challenge.

When Molefoot stepped forward towards Ospreypaw, Sedgepaw broke her glare from Longscar. Their grizzled muzzle held a smile as bright as the sun as they sat before Ospreypaw. Finally, Sedgepaw was able to see Batface's scarred muzzle and rugged frame. She noticed he stole a glance at Blackpaw as he went by. He was not smiling, but Sedgepaw noticed faint warmth in his orange eyes as he sat before her. She opened her mouth to speak, but her mentor shook his head, brows furrowing.

"Before the test begins, I must lay out the rules," Whitestar resumed speaking once the mentors took their places. "Mentors shall supervise their apprentices during the test, however, any efforts to intervene or assist any of the apprentices will result in the failure of that apprentice and their partner. Understood?"

The mentors gave a resonate: "Yes, Whitestar."

"Apprentices, you have four skills that you will be tested on. If you fail two of those categories, you will not be allowed to complete your test, and you will remain an apprentice until I believe you are ready to test again. Your failure will also cause your partner to fail you and join you in remedial training. Understood?"

"Yes, Whitestar," the apprentices mewed, almost robotically. Sedgepaw felt a lump in her throat as she spoke.

"Apprentices, it is your responsibility to ensure your success as well as your partner's. You must also work to ensure one another's safety." Whitestar paused, her expression growing more grave. "If one of you dies during the test, your partner will fail. Mentors, if your apprentice dies during the test, you will never again receive a new apprentice; the mentor of your apprentice's partner will be absolved of their role, and the remaining apprentice will be given to the deputy or myself. Understood?"

Both mentors and apprentices were staring at one another as they spoke: "Yes, Whitestar."

Sedgepaw felt her resolve blossom within her. She did not allow her doubts to cloud her vision, before her she could see success, and it was her time to take it. She breathed in slowly, exhaling as she release all her tumultuous thoughts. Her whole life revolved around this very moment. As she held Batface's gaze, she only grew more determined to prove herself.

"By the power bestowed upon me, I commend these cats to StarClan in hopes of their victory. May they return to us as warriors by nightfall." Whitestar bowed her head in silent prayer, and the rest of MarshClan followed suit.

Sedgepaw joined in the prayer, but her ears were ringing with the sound of her heartbeat. She could only muster a silent wish that she and her siblings were successful today. She did not even know if StarClan was willing to listen to her. Was it even in Their plan for them to succeed?

"Mentors and apprentices, I hereby order the final test to commence at sunhigh. You have until then to make any final arrangements." Whitestar sprang off the Fallen Cypress and regarded her Clan with a nod. "The morning gathering is adjourned. Spiderfang will be taking charge for the remainder of the day while I prepare and observe the test."

As the MarshClan cats slowly broke away to go about their daily duties, Sedgepaw remained sitting before Batface. They continued to hold their gaze. She was not sure where to start. Thank you? I won't let you down? I feel like my heart is about to burst out of my chest? Sedgepaw was mute.

It was Batface that spoke first. "To think, you started as a scruffy, hotheaded ball of mischief." A smile crinkled his graying muzzle.

"That's not true!" Sedgepaw protested, laughing.

"You're right… you're not that scruffy." Batface chuckled.

"The temper I got from you." Sedgepaw stuck her tongue out at him. Though Batface often frustrated her, she did not realize how close they had become until their relationship as mentor and apprentice was coming to an end. She grew sullen, wishing she had listened to him more. "Thank you…"

"Don't thank me yet," Batface warned, growing serious. "You haven't passed your test."

Sedgepaw scoffed, "I know I will!"

"I admire your spirit." Batface nodded. "Remember your training, and you will do just fine."

Sedgepaw returned the nod, smiling. "I won't let you down!"

As Batface rose to leave, Sedgepaw watched as he was joined by the other mentors. They all seemed to be heading toward the fresh-kill pile, likely wanting a meal before the test began. Sedgepaw watched them go; her belly was too full of butterflies for her to even think about food. Her eyes scanned the dispersing crowd of cats for the other apprentices, but instead she met a familiar pair of deep blue eyes.

"Blueflower?" she breathed.

"I was on the dawn patrol," Blueflower mewed as she rushed to her. Her face held a mix of emotions, surprise being the most noticeable to Sedgepaw. "I heard the news. Congratulations?" She laughed. "I know you're ready… I'm just sure it came as a shock."

"It did…" Sedgepaw mewed, scratching at the grass with a smirk. "But you're right, I'm ready. I've never been more ready for anything." She smiled at Blueflower, stepping closer to the warrior. "Did you come to wish me good luck?" she mewed coquettishly, brow quirked.

Blueflower purred and rolled her eyes. "Like you need it." She closed the distance between them, rasping her tongue against her cheek. "But just in case..." she murmured gently against her face. "Good luck."

Sedgepaw was speechless as Blueflower brushed passed her, her long, blue-gray fur intertwining with her dark tabby pelt as she went by. Her scent soothed her, and she watched the warrior go to Spiderfang, likely meaning to report her findings with the rest of the dawn patrol. Entranced by the she-cat, Sedgepaw almost failed to notice a glare burning into her pelt, and when she turned, she saw Longscar, staring at her from the fresh-kill pile.

His eyes were unblinking, aflame. A snake in cat's fur, coiled and ready to strike. It seemed that Sedgepaw would have more than one test to overcome. She smirked.

_Let him test me. I am ready._


	16. The Crucible, Part One

THE blue sky burned bright with the sun. The clouds that lingered at dawn had all but evaporated in the heat of day. Sedgepaw was waiting beside the Fallen Cypress, where the roots gathered, her pelt itching with anticipation. As Whitestar instructed, the apprentices and their mentors gathered for their test beside the Fallen Cypress at sunhigh to await their test. Surrounding her, she could see the other apprentices hosting a mix of emotions on their faces. Excitement. Wonder. Fear. Determination. While their mentors sat studiously, talking amongst themselves about the trials to come.

Turning to Batface, Sedgepaw followed his intense stare to Blackpaw and wrinkled her nose in confusion. "What's eating you?" she asked lightly, smiling.

Batface blinked, clearing his throat and shaking his head. "Nothing… nothing. I was just checking out your competition is all."

Sedgepaw snorted. "Competition?"

"You will not only have your skills tested, you will also be ranked against the other apprentices testing with you." Batface nodded to the pairs of apprentices in the small crowd. "Toadpaw, Mudpaw. Blackpaw, Yewpaw. You will be facing off against these rival pairs in competition for the title: honor graduate."

The term "honor graduate" did ring a bell. Sedgepaw's ears flicked. The last honor graduates were Snakefang and Juniperheart, having bested Vinestripe and Minnowtail as well as Littlebrook and Blueflower during their test. Sedgepaw never imagined being an honor graduate, but once Batface spoke of it, her soul thirsted for the title. To be the greatest? Who would not want that victory?

"Blackpaw is a more than capable apprentice." Sedgepaw was taken back by the wistfulness in Batface's voice. "He could very well overcome you, if you're not careful."

She snorted, raising her chin. "I'm bigger and stronger than him. It doesn't matter who his ancestors are. The only reason anyone cares about bloodlines is so we don't lay in bed with our cousins."

"You need more than brute strength to win," Batface grumbled, eyeing her sternly. "Keep your head on straight."

Sedgepaw sobered her expression, regarding her mentor with a nod. She would heed his warning, if that would mute the manner. Blackpaw did not scare her, he could not even intimidate her. Sedgepaw's gaze fell on rhe apprentice, watching as he laughed with Shaleheart. Envy speared her heart, staining it green. Digging her claws into the earth, she bit her lip and forced her eyes to leave the sight of Shaleheart smiling so brightly; she was left wanting the twinkle in her father's yellow eyes to be on her.

Locusts trilled their song, and it rung in Sedgepaw's ears like a siren, alerting her to Whitestar as she crossed the clearing from the medicine den with Redleaf by her side. They were discussing something, talking in hurried sentences as they approached. Sedgepaw narrowed her eyes, trying to decipher their words, but the ripples of heat in the air distorted their faces. Sucking her teeth, she averted her eyes as they arrived

"I see you're all gathered," Whitestar observed. Her narrow smile tightened. "Let us not burn daylight any longer. The sun is at its brightest; the test will commence now!"

The mentors rose to their paws, bowing their heads to Whitestar. She bowed her head in return. Redleaf kept his chin high, and Sedgepaw felt his gaze fall on her. She locked eyes with him for a heartbeat, feeling her blood chill. He offered a curt smile, but Sedgepaw looked away, pretending not to see.

"The first test, a test of scholarship," Redleaf began. His golden eyes were brimming with anticipation. The stocky medicine cat shook with laughter. "I hope you all remember the leaders you intend to present to the elders. Your knowledge of their history will be your bane or your boon."

"The apprentices will enter the elders den with their partners. Mentors remain outside with the rest of us. Apprentices will recount their leader to the elders, and should they be succinct and accurate, will pass their first test," Whitestar explained. "Blackpaw, Yewpaw, you two will go first."

Without hesitation, Blackpaw padded toward the elders den with Yewpaw scurrying behind him. Sedgepaw leaned forward, wanting to offer a "good luck" or kind words, but Yewpaw passed too fast for her to manage anything. Cypressfang and Russetnose waited outside the den, sagely nodding to the apprentices as they entered. When their tails were swallowed by the shadows, all went quiet.

Sedgepaw shuffled eagerly, going through and through her memories of Lightningstar's past, not wanting to miss so much as a mouse's tail of information. Ospreypaw sidled up beside her, sighing. Her presence broke Sedgepaw's concentration, and she glared at her friend.

"Quit giving me that look," Ospreypaw mewed. "I'm only sitting."

"I'm trying to recall what I know about Lightningstar, but I keep drawing up blanks." Sedgepaw groaned. She heard Batface growl with displeasure; he was eyeing her from the group of mentors that stood off beside the elders den. "I don't do well under pressure," she whispered so her mentor wouldn't hear.

Ospreypaw laughed. "You'll be fine. Lightningstar had a short reign; you won't have to cover much."

"Lightningstar," Redleaf echoed, meandering over to the two. "A peculiar choice." His eyes fell on Sedgepaw. "Would that be yours?"

Sedgepaw shifted in her seat, eyeing Redleaf defensively. "Yes… uhm… how is it peculiar, exactly?"

"Well, some historians within our Clan argue that he was never truly a leader at all." Redleaf seemed to stare through Sedgepaw as he spoke. She felt oddly exposed by his eyes. "After all, he was never blessed with nine lives."

"I hope I am not hearing you speak ill of our ancestors," Whitestar warned, coming to stand beside the husky medicine cat. "Anyone blessed with a star in their name is a leader and should be remembered as much."

"Of course," Redleaf blubbered, ears flicking. He bowed his head apologetically. "I was only making observations."

"Lightningstar is remembered as a hero for good reason, Redleaf." Whitestar's glare was venomous. "His only vice was his one virtue… mercy."

"Mercy?" Sedgepaw peeped.

"Those that show mercy are destined to be overcome." Whitestar stared down at Sedgepaw with a deep frown. "Lightningstar would've served long and well had he not shown mercy… but such is fate for any revolutionary. Those that incite change, whether it's needed or not, are doomed to a short life and a shorter rule-like the waves on the shore, for every push the pull comes back twofold."

Sedgepaw met her leader's stare, feeling an unspoken challenge between them. The air turned to ice, but their stares burned like fire. A revolutionary? Sedgepaw had the sneaking suspicion that her leader knew the prophecy. She felt like prey being held at bay. A mouse in a viper's path. She started to bristle as Yewpaw and Blackpaw returned from the elders den.

"They asked for Ospreypaw and Sedgepaw next," Yewpaw murmured, head bowed to Whitestar.

The leader flicked her long tail. "Very well." She nodded to Sedgepaw and her partner. "Good luck you two."

As the hurried to the elders den, Ospreypaw pressed against Sedgepaw. "Why did Whitestar look at you like that?" Her voice lowered. "Does she know?"

Sedgepaw shrugged her broad shoulders. "Not sure…" She shook her head as they stepped into the musty entryway of the elders den. "Let's not think about that for right now. We need to focus on our test."

Ospreypaw's eyes glowed with determination. "Right!"

As they entered the center of the elders den, sunlight filtered through to shine light on their grizzled faces. Cypressfang sat at the heart of the den, where the sun was at its brightest, and his green eyes regarded the apprentices with a sagacious glint. "Welcome to the first step of your test, senior apprentices," he greeted formally. "I, Cypressfang, will be proctoring the examination of your scholarship. Russetnose and Owleyes will be assisting me." He gestured to the elders by his side with his bushy tail, and they nodded in tandem, murmuring their welcomes.

Sedgepaw's heart fluttered as she registered the gravity of her ordeal. Her first step!

"You two were ordered to pick your leader for presentation before today," Cypressfang went on. "You reviewed your leader with us for approval prior to, and henceforth will recount them to us."

"Be blunt but thorough," Owleyes added, her voice warm and sweet like amber. "Time is your enemy; the longer you take to present, the less likely you are to pass."

"But most of all, have fun!" Russetnose added, whiskers twitching. Upon receiving a glare from Cypressfang, the shaggy elder laughed. "I jest! I jest!" He righted his jovial expression, becoming solemn. "This is serious…" His eyes still held laughter.

"I'll be going first," Sedgepaw rasped, clearing her throat so her voice became clearer. "I will be presenting Lightningstar. He was the tenth leader of MarshClan."

The three elders were watching her intently, Cypressfang most of all. Sedgepaw glared at her grandfather, not allowing her eyes to flicker elsewhere despite the judgment in his eyes. She rose her chin, wanting to appear strong though she felt anxious under their eyes. Ospreypaw's tail twined with hers encouragingly as she spoke, and it soothed her thoughts from a rushing river to a gentle stream.

"He was… a hero. A revolutionary." Sedgepaw scoured her thoughts for the right words. "He… drove out Smallstar, the ninth leader of MarshClan. Lightningstar and his supporters thought she was too soft on the raiders. He let her live though; she fled to the land beyond the river and kept her nine lives. Lightningstar was recognized by Twistedshadow, the medicine cat, but because Smallstar lived, he did not receive his nine lives from StarClan." Sedgepaw's voice dropped an octave. "He died in battle, slain by raiders that grew close to Smallstar and defended her. He was succeeded by Murkstorm."

Once Sedgepaw finished a pause ensued. She glanced at the elders, finding their expressions unreadable. Shuffling her paws, she felt her anxiety climb through the roof of the den when the elders leaned in to speak to one another, her pelt prickled. Just tell me how I did!

"Well done, Sedgepaw," Owleyes purred. "You'll have your results after Ospreypaw finishes." The elderly she-cat's eyes flickered to Ospreypaw, and she gave a nod.

"I will be presenting Hemlockstar, the twelfth leader of MarshClan," Ospreypaw mewed.

"Very well," Cypressfang rumbled. "Go ahead."

"Mentored and preceded by Murkstar, Hemlockstar looked up to and was inspired by his former." Ospreypaw spoke mechanically, her eyes downcast as she recited what she was supposed to. The elders were nodding and smiling appreciatively, clearly impressed with Sedgepaw's articulate counterpart. Sedgepaw smirked, knowing Ospreypaw was easily one of the smartest cats in the Clan. Who wouldn't admire her? "He made MarshClan stronger and better…"

A sudden pause made the air thicken. Sedgepaw tilted her head at Ospreypaw when she seemed to hesitate. Her friend had her eyes shut, and she was frowning deeply. Sedgepaw tugged her tail with her own, eyes narrowing. Did she draw a blank?

"Stronger and better by his standards," Ospreypaw continued, prompting the elders' eyes to widen. "Hemlockstar was cruel and prejudiced." Her voice was calm but curt, she spoke with a quickness, like the words would escape her if she did not speak fast enough. "He believed his Clan was dirtied by kits born from mixed blood and saw his ranks divided by sympathizers for the raiders. So, he initiated a 'purification' that he believed would make MarshClan return to divinity… He ordered kits that had raider blood to be killed, apprentices too, and the parents that stood against him were to face slaughter as well."

Sedgepaw felt like her eyes were about to pop out of her skull. Ospreypaw's chin was raised as she spoke, and her eyes glowed fearlessly. The elders mirrored Sedgepaw's expression, save for Cypressfang. His face was twisted in a scowl so frigid, it exposed his fangs, and his eyes burned straight through Ospreypaw.

"Under Hemlockstar, bloodlines were severed and families were destroyed. He is, without a doubt, the worst leader of MarshClan… put into power by Crowtalon. He was succeeded by Bleaksky."

Finishing her presentation with a soft sigh, Sedgepaw felt her anxiety swell. The murmurings between the elders were hushed but intense, their words hissing through their yellowed, cracked teeth, and their eyes were fervid. Stealing a glance at Ospreypaw's face, Sedgepaw noticed that she was resigned.

"What are you doing?" she whispered through her teeth. "The elders told you not to talk about Hemlockstar in such a way…"

"It didn't feel right," Ospreypaw muttered. "Our past deserves to be known for what it is, not what we want it to be."

"Thank you, apprentices," Russetnose mewed stiffly, casting a wary glance at Cypressfang. "We've reviewed your results, and they are as follows…"

"Sedgepaw, you've passed," Owleyes purred, smiling softly. "You did well explaining how Lightningstar came to power and how he died. Very professional."

Sedgepaw sat a little straighter after receiving the praise. Though she knew her friend may not be so lucky. Ospreypaw remained still, staring at the elders without the slightest hint of fear in her face. Sedgepaw found herself growing jealous of her bravery. If Sedgepaw was presenting Hemlockstar, she was not sure she would have the guts to put her final test on the line in the name of truth.

"Ospreypaw," Cypressfang rasped, "you did yourself a disservice by disobeying us. Though what you spoke may be the truth in your eyes, as keepers of our Clan's history, we cannot give you a passing grade for your presentation. Hemlockstar is to be remembered as our leader commands."

Ospreypaw nodded once, turning to leave for the clearing where the others sat. Sedgepaw watched her go, feeling sympathy for her partner. She only just started the test and failed… Sedgepaw sighed softly. One more failure and Ospreypaw would not become an apprentice, which meant Sedgepaw would not become one either.

"You may go now, honey," Owleyes mewed, her expression sorrowful. She too was watching Ospreypaw storm out of the den. "We wish you good fortune on the rest of your test."

Sedgepaw bowed her head respectfully, stiffening when she looked up to see Cypressfang approaching her. "I'll be following you out," he rumbled.

As they exited the elders den, Sedgepaw promptly found Ospreypaw sitting to the side of the elders den beside Blackpaw and Yewpaw. Her eyes were downcast as a dragonfly danced around her ears, hovering. She shook her head, flicking it away, and it darted over to Toadpaw, landing on his supple rump as he lounged out in the shade of the Fallen Cypress while Mudpaw was sleeping beside him.

"Hey, are you okay?" Sedgepaw asked gently.

"I'm fine." Ospreypaw glanced up at Sedgepaw and offered a small smile. "I'm sorry… I screwed everything up being stubborn…"

"Yeah, what gives? That's my job." Sedgepaw snickered. When Ospreypaw failed to laugh, she sat beside her and nudged her gently. "You did what you thought was right. Who cares what those grumpy lumps of fur think?"

Ospreypaw nodded, eyes flashing sadly, and she leaned against Sedgepaw.

Sedgepaw sighed and allowed her friend to press close. While they sat in silence, she noticed Cypressfang was approaching Whitestar and Redleaf. Eyes narrowing, Sedgepaw noticed the elderly tom muttering to the leader and medicine cat, his brows furrowed. Whatever he said caused them to prick up their ears and glare daggers at the group of mentors. Sedgepaw followed their stares to Molefoot, heart sinking. Could it be they blamed them for Ospreypaw's failure?

"I'll be taking Toadpaw and Mudpaw now," Cypressfang announced, leaving Whitestar and Redleaf to continue glaring at Molefoot.

Mudpaw and Toadpaw started at the sound of their names being called. Sedgepaw giggled, seeing her brother's bungled attempt to jump over Toadpaw, for the hefty apprentice sat up right as Mudpaw was over him. Toadpaw chortled, blatantly dragging himself over Mudpaw as he lay on the ground, chin implanted in the dust. Mudpaw hissed a slur and nipped at Toadpaw's mottled brown tail, dragging him back with a tug so he could run ahead of him and passed Cypressfang. The elder rolled his eyes and ushered Toadpaw in after him with a growl.

"Do you think Mudpaw will forgive me?" Sedgepaw asked suddenly, feeling longing in her heart for her brother to laugh with her rather than Toadpaw.

"He'll come around," Ospreypaw assured her. "You guys were thick as thieves when you were kits. I don't think a prophecy could change that."

Sedgepaw smiled and nodded. "Yeah, remember how much we'd annoy Kiteclaw?"

"You annoyed me too." Ospreypaw side-eyed her sardonically. "Like when you would shove mouse bones in Kiteclaw's nest and tell her that you ate me? She would end up getting mad at me!"

"Hey, I remember that!" Blackpaw chimed in, chuckling. "Shellshine was so distraught at the idea of kits conjuring up such tales." He eyed Sedgepaw with laughter in his eyes. "She insisted on calling you cretins after that."

"Yeah, and Fernstream nearly ripped her ears off," Yewpaw added, giggling softly.

"Oh! And remember when Yewpaw was convinced there were ghosts in the nursery?" Blackpaw added, ears perking up. "Shellshine was ready to line everyone's bedding with sage."

"That's not funny…" Yewpaw mumbled, eyes downcast.

"Yeah, and Kiteclaw banned nursery tales before bed." Sedgepaw laughed, nudging Ospreypaw playfully.

"Look at us, swapping stories of our kithood like elders," Ospreypaw scoffed, snorting. "We'll be sprouting gray hairs before we know it!"

"Wait, really?" Yewpaw sat, pressing her paw to her cheek with a frightened expression.

They all shared a laugh once more. Sedgepaw relished the feeling. She felt light. For once, the chatter in her skull was replaced with peach fuzz and pink clouds; sweet, soft, featherweight. If only she could suspend moments like these and live in them a little longer, for it ended too soon. Toadpaw and Mudpaw both pranced out of the elders den with smiles on their faces.

"Well, that was fast," Ospreypaw mused.

Cypressfang followed the two tomcats out of the den, giving Whitestar a nod. The leader approached the elder and they swapped a few words before he returned to the shadows and she moved to face the apprentices and their mentors.

"Congratulations, apprentices, you've completed the first step in your test." The leader dipped her head to the gathered cats appreciatively. "Cypressfang gave me the results, and I will keep them in mind to tally at the end."

Redleaf moved to stand beside Whitestar, bowing his head to the cats. "Next, will be the test of strength. Apprentices, come forth."

Sedgepaw scrambled to her paws and obeyed the command, hurrying before Redleaf and her leader. She tried to keep her expression flat though she was bubbling with excitement. Strength! She rolled her shoulders. This was her specialty. Ospreypaw sighed as she stood beside her, looking cool and collected.

As the other apprentices took their place, Redleaf scanned them thoughtfully. "Those feeling ill or injured should speak now before the test begins. No one will shame you for yielding a match that cannot be fought." The silence was Redleaf's answer, and the medicine cat nodded in turn. "Very well. Heronpaw and I will be standing by with herbs for injuries at the end." He craned his head to the leader. "Whitestar…"

"The matches are as follows: Mudpaw and Ospreypaw. Yewpaw and Toadpaw. Blackpaw and Sedgepaw!" Whitestar proclaimed the matches proudly, a smile on her face.

Sedgepaw felt her muscles come alive when her opponent was announced. Blackpaw. Perhaps Batface was hinting at their match earlier when he mentioned not to underestimate the apprentice? They both excelled in their training and were similar in size. Their battle was inevitable in hindsight.

As the apprentices took their positions before one another in the center of MarshClan camp's clearing, Whitestar jumped for the Fallen Cypress. She sat on her perch with her chest held high and chin raised. Redleaf and the mentors sat at the base of her pedestal, and Sedgepaw smirked when she saw Batface give her a nod of encouragement. Before, he would have been gritting his teeth and berating Sedgepaw for mistakes she had not even made yet. Now, there was a silent agreement between them, and it said "I know you'll do your best."

A crowd quietly gathered around the paired up apprentices as they began to circle one another. Cats that were not occupied with patrols or hunting parties soon came to witness the duels to ensue. Excitement and wonder were in their eyes as they hissed to one another eagerly, likely waging bets and picking favorites. Sedgepaw glanced to see if Blueflower was among them, and sure enough, she sat beside Littlebrook, smiling her way with light in her blue eyes. Reinvigorated, Sedgepaw's blood roared to life, pulsing through her body, feeding her nerves and muscles with energy to fight.

"May the best apprentice win," Blackpaw mewed to Sedgepaw as they continued their cycloidal dance. "By best, I mean me, of course."

His jab only stirred Sedgepaw's determination more. "I'll make you eat those words," she spat.

Sedgepaw could only hear her heartbeat as time slowly passed. Sunlight gleamed onto the grass, bright and strong, heating the air and shedding enough light to chase all shadows from existance. Her thick fur soaked in the warmth, bringing her blood from a simmer to a boil.

"Unsheathe your claws" Whitestar yowled.

Sedgepaw dug her claws into the grass, breathing steadily. The muscles in her shoulders were twitching with anticipation.

"And, begin!" Whitestar's command shook the earth.

Blackpaw did not hesitate. He lunged forward, aiming for Sedgepaw's sore shoulder. Though Batface had her best interest in mind during their final lesson, it potentially endangered her in this battle. Sedgepaw rolled out of the way, but Blackpaw quickly change direction, hovering over her for a heartbeat before lunging at her neck with his fangs. Sedgepaw hissed at his advance, raking her claws against his muzzle, making the first blow.

Blood spattered against her face as his drizzled from his snout and dripped off his long whiskers. Blackpaw bellowed, rearing back, and she seized the opportunity to tackle him. With a thud, she pinned the apprentice to the ground, ensnaring her claws in his thick black fur. Hissing in frustration, she tore at his chest, leaving rivulets of red. Blackpaw howled, but his green eyes glinted with satisfaction. Before Sedgepaw could surmise his intentions, she felt his hind claws rake against her belly.

Sedgepaw tilted her head back and screeched. She was tethered to his pelt by the tangles in his fur, which clung to her claws like roots to the earth. Sedgepaw's eyes darted wildly as she began to panic. Yanking her claws back, she felt them begin to tear as Blackpaw repeatedly scored his claws against her soft belly. She could feel her warm blood begin to trickle down her legs.

Across the clearing, she saw her siblings were also struggling against their opponents. Toadpaw was crushing Yewpaw into the earth under his weight. Mudpaw was trapped with Ospreypaw's jaws clenching his tail. Sedgepaw's heart hammered against her chest. Maybe Batface was right? She underestimated Blackpaw.

No.

Sedgepaw ripped her claws away, tearing one in the process, causing more blood to spurt. She hissed as Blackpaw rose to his paws, blood dripping from his face and chest. She rushed him, a mass of dark brown fur and fury. He dodged her, as she suspected, and Sedgepaw kicked her hind legs out to where he stood, striking his shoulder. He growled and sprung, landing on Sedgepaw's back to sink his teeth in her wounded shoulder. Sedgepaw snarled, bucking and shaking as she attempted to throw him off, but he only sunk his claws in deeper.

As Blackpaw went to sink her teeth into Sedgepaw's shoulder again, she rolled, slamming him into the ground. Hearing her opponent gasp as the wind got knocked out of him, she turned and raked her claws across his face again. Blackpaw spat, rising to return the swipe, scoring across her cheek with a firm strike. Sedgepaw returned the blow, and soon they were both on their hind legs, forearms outstretched, trading scratches across one another's face. Sedgepaw felt blood begin to pool in her eye from a torn ear, but she could see how Blackpaw's face was marred with scratches across his muzzle and ears.

Circling one another again, the apprentices let their blood flow. The grass that once shone with sunlight now twinkled with red dew drops. The clearing was consumed by raucous cheers and jeers as the gathered MarshClan cats continued to rally for their favorites. She could hear the hisses and screams from the other pairs locked in battle, Yewpaw's in particular was shrill with fear.

Sure enough, Blackpaw's eyes shifted, looking for Yewpaw. Sedgepaw stole her chance, lunging for the side of his face. She sunk her teeth into the base of his jaw, scrabbling at his shoulders with her paws. Blackpaw yowled in surprise, his claws blindly searching for Sedgepaw as she kept his jaw locked in her teeth. She pushed him back and pulled him forward, prompting shocked gasps and murmurs from the gathered cats that were paying attention to their fight.

A haze of red consumed Sedgepaw's vision. The taste of Blackpaw's blood stung like acid on her tongue, but her throat thirsted for more. She tried to blink away the shroud, but it only grew deeper and darker. Her eyes sought for the sun as her teeth seemed to grate Blackpaw's jawbone. She felt herself slipping. What was happening?

She heard screams.

Who did they belong to?

Her ears started ringing, and Blackpaw felt limp as she dragged him.

"I yield!"

Sedgepaw growled, eyes narrowing. The haze would come and go, like clouds over the sun, and when the sky became a bright blue once more, she was able to hear the voice again.

"I yield!"

It was Blackpaw. He was hanging limp in her jaws, coughing and spitting as Sedgepaw maintained her grip. She blinked quickly, feeling her surroundings sharpen once more. She dropped Blackpaw, and he collapsed onto the ground with a gasp. He shakily stood, his eyes rolling up to glare at Sedgepaw.

"What is wrong with you?" he snapped. He began shifting his jaw as blood pooled within the puncture wounds.

Sedgepaw backed away, noticing Jasminefur shooing her kits back into the nursery. Hawthornkit in particular was staring at Sedgepaw with wide blue eyes. As Sedgepaw glanced around, it seemed as if everyone was staring at her. She could see Gingerstep's look of horror, and the oddly eager gleam in Claytooth's eyes. Juniperheart and Shellshine were murmuring to one another with looks of concern on their faces. When Sedgepaw saw Blueflower, her eyes were lowered, and she felt a tug in her chest. What have I done? The other apprentices had already finished their fight, and were having their wounds tended to by Heronpaw and Redleaf. It seemed their battles were long over. Sedgepaw and Blackpaw were the center of attention.

Blackpaw rose shakily to his paws, spitting at her. "Are you deaf or just crazy? Yield means I give. You won." The grudge in his voice was evident, and Sedgepaw met his glare with her chin raised.

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear you." Her apology was stiff as she tried to put into words what came over her. Nothing came to mind.

"Damn you," Blackpaw muttered.

As Blackpaw approached Redleaf and Heronpaw, he was greeted with apologetic and sympathetic mews from the gathered cats. Sedgepaw could feel her eye swelling as she began to limp towards the medicine cat and his apprentice, head low. She won, but it didn't feel like it.

"The test of strength has ended!" Whitestar announced. Sedgepaw was surprised to hear joy in her voice. "Our winners: Sedgepaw, Ospreypaw, and Toadpaw, shall be rewarded for their victory by having a head start in the speed competition!"

Coming down from the Fallen Cypress, Whitestar snaked towards the apprentices with an odd light in her eyes. Despite the shock and awe from the MarshClan body, Whitestar seemed deeply satisfied. There was a smile on her snout and a purr in her throat.

Her amber eyes were zoned in on Sedgepaw. "I have not seen fighting like that in many moons. Well done."

Sedgepaw was sitting beside Heronpaw, wincing as he catered to the scratches on her face. "Thank you, Whitestar."

The leader smiled, nodding. She glanced at the sky, noticing the sun beginning to make its descent toward the horizon. "I'll allow your bodies some time to recover before the next step in your test. You will all be chasing the sunset, making a race for the Starlit Springs. I will be waiting for you all by the wall of sawgrass."

As Whitestar left for the wall, she was joined by the mentors, and they grouped together in a semicircle. Sedgepaw assumed they were mulling over the apprentices' performances thus far. She growled when Heronpaw applied a poultice to her shoulder that stung, and the medicine cat apprentice hissed in response.

"Sit still," he ordered.

Grumbling, she returned her gaze to the wall, and her eyes narrowed as she struggled to focus on a peculiar form within the swaying grasses. The tabby fur was dark, blending with the reeds as they twirled around its broad shoulders. Sedgepaw's fur began to prickle when she saw the glint of golden eyes. The figure stood behind Whitestar, and Sedgepaw opened her mouth to warn her, but words failed her when she recognized the face. It was her own. The hollow, empty eyes resembled that of the entity in her dream. The blood on her face was fresh, dripping from her jaws. A warm breeze filtered through the clearing once more, shifting the sawgrass and cane to reveal the figure's small, satisfied grin. Sedgepaw's blood ran cold, and she flinched back from the sight, causing Heronpaw to hiss again.

"What's got you fidgeting?" he growled. "I'm trying to help you out."

"Sorry, I…" Sedgepaw glanced at the wall. The figure of herself was gone. "I thought I saw something."

"You didn't lose enough blood to be hallucinating," Heronpaw murmured. "It's probably just leftover nerves from the fight… Simmer down, you'll be okay."

"Right…" Sedgepaw lowered her gaze, staring at her bloody paws. Her nerves were frayed, and they sparked in her mind like tiny bolts of lightning, forcing her to relive the fight in bloody snapshots. Did I lose myself back there? she wondered. Her heart sank. The haze that blinded her… it made her feel invincible. She glanced over to Blackpaw, watching as Yewpaw and Toadpaw were talking to him softly. His jaw was swollen, but bandaged well. Sedgepaw felt sick to her stomach. She could have really hurt him…This guilt that was born inside her was fresh and new, and it made her feel rotten to her core.

Gazing at the sky, Sedgepaw began to wonder. What was she to become?


	17. The Crucible, Part Two

SCARLET painted the sky as the sun began its descent toward the horizon. The crown of the clouds that gathered was golden, their fluffy bellies blue-gray. What remained of the pale blue sky was chased by pastel orange that ran from the rays of sunshine. Soon, sunset would arrive… then twilight.

"Apprentices, you've had your time to heal," Redleaf began. He was sitting beside Whitestar with his back to the vast wall of sawgrass. The grasses and reeds hissed and rustled behind him, whispering inaudibly between their blades. "This is the final half of your test, and the hardest. Your third challenge is speed."

Whitestar picked up where Redleaf left off. Her voice was clear and sharp, cutting through the humid air like a claw. "During this challenge, you will be racing alongside your fellow apprentices to the Starlit Springs. It is there you will meet Redleaf and I, and we will travel to the Lunar Cavern together for the final challenge."

With the first half of the final test over, Sedgepaw already felt like her mind and body were beaten to a pulp. As she sat alongside the other apprentices, she felt an unspoken coldness emerging between them. They all seemed to sit decidedly further from her and Ospreypaw, purposefully avoiding her stare. Clearly, her assault on Blackpaw unsettled them, and Sedgepaw could hardly blame them. Her whiskers drooped; the only one that seemed impressed by her ferocity during the test of strength was Whitestar, for she stared at Sedgepaw with a gleam of pride in her amber eyes since Blackpaw's surrender.

She shuddered as a warm breeze ruffled her long fur, carrying with it the scent of fresh herbs and blood. All the apprentices were slathered in poultices and gauze of cobwebs, knowing very well the remedies would be peeled and ripped from their fur during the mad dash that was about to ensue.

"However," Whitestar continued, "you cannot run through the territory on a whim. There is a set path you must take that will also display your knowledge of our territory. First, you will cross through the marsh, taking the route to the palmetto field, from there you will travel to the rim of pine trees that flank the cypress forest, passing under Oakbridge and through the training gully until you reach the Great Cypress, from there, you will make your way to the Starlit Springs where we will be waiting." She paused for a breath. "The last apprentice to arrive… will lose this challenge; everyone else will claim victory."

Sedgepaw scrambled to remember each landmark spoken by her leader. It became painfully obvious that the route was long and arduous as she mulled over the distance.

"When you return to camp, you will either be warriors… or failures," Whitestar promised, amber eyes alite. "Do keep in mind that we have warriors scattered along the route to ensure you are taking the proper path. Though Redleaf and I are relying on your integrity, if we return to camp and are told by one of the warriors standing by that you failed to pass their benchmark—you will fail this entire test."

Sedgepaw rose to her paws, meeting her leader's stare. The other apprentices stood as well, readying for the impending race. Just two more challenges. She only had to overcome two more challenges! She shoved her guilt over her battle with Blackpaw to the back of her mind. If she let him cloud her thoughts, she could lose focus and fail. I will not fail, she told herself.

"The apprentices that won their battles will have a head start in the race," Whitestar mewed. A smile cracked on her muzzle. "Sedgepaw, Ospreypaw, and Toadpaw."

Sedgepaw stepped forward with her partner. Toadpaw, at the end of the row of apprentices, also took a pace forward. With the victors awaiting the signal to begin, Redleaf pushed through the wall of sawgrass, likely beginning his venture to the Starlit Springs. Sedgepaw watched him go, mistrust coloring her features. Their eventual journey into the Lunar Cavern hung heavy over her head. Within the holy cave was the plinth on which the medicine cat or leader convened with the stars. Only cats of the highest ranking were allowed within its depths unescorted, for the cosmic energy within the cavern was said to be too overpowering for the common cat. Sedgepaw knew setting foot in the cavern could unveil her ancestors' true intentions; butterflies flooded her stomach at the thought of it. The Starlit Springs were sacred enough, but to be in the Lunar Cavern… it meant Sedgepaw would finally come face to face with StarClan.

All she had to do was complete this race, and she would meet Them.

"Ready!" Whitestar called out.

Shaken from her reverie, Sedgepaw's muscles wound tight. Her eyes honed in on the narrow pathway hidden within the wall of grass. She could feel Ospreypaw tense up beside her, and she licked her lips with anticipation. She knew her sure-footed partner would smoke the competition. Their victory was imminent! She gave a snort as Toadpaw rolled forward, his hefty body shaking in preparation to bolt.

"Begin!"

Launching forward, Sedgepaw scrambled into the sawgrass. A rush of black and white fur overtook her, and Sedgepaw watched as Ospreypaw assumed to lead only a heartbeat into the race. Following close behind the apprentice, Sedgepaw crashed into the cane and grass, burrowing into the blades that combed through her thick fur and scratched at her face. Wincing, she refused to slow her charge, for behind her she heard the bustle of Toadpaw at her heels. The stocky apprentice was breathing heavily, and when Sedgepaw glanced back, she could see a twinge of fatigue on his broad face.

By the time Sedgepaw broke into the marsh, she could hear the three other apprentices crashing through the sawgrass in a mad dash to catch up. Sedgepaw took a moment to breathe, scanning the marsh for the clearest route to the palmetto field. Debris clouded the murky water. Driftwood and pondgrass floated just below the surface, lying in wait to trip her up if she was not observant. Long swathes of eelgrass also lurked; Sedgepaw knew if she got tangled in their long, spongy blades, that she would be weighed down until she escaped the water. She could see Ospreypaw prancing far ahead, her serpentine motions kept her clear from the peat and mud, and her tail wove high in the air with confidence.

Loud splashing sounded as Toadpaw entered the marsh. Sedgepaw gritted her teeth. Her time to assess her surroundings ended as soon as he arrived. To her surprise, he was joined shortly after by Blackpaw and Mudpaw; the two toms were neck and neck, matched in speed and determination with their green eyes pining for victory. Blackpaw's long fur was slicked back with all manners of poultice, and his swollen jaw was encapsulated by reddened cobwebs. And yet, he sped passed Sedgepaw without so much as a glance in her direction. Mudpaw followed shortly after, hampered by a wound on his hindleg from Ospreypaw.

Hissing, Sedgepaw launched after them, determined not to fall too far behind. However, the paw that harbored her torn claw was slowly being set aflame by pain. It pulsated up her paw and into her leg with each step, but if she let it hinder her too much, she would fall into last place.

Suddenly, Yewpaw seemed to manifest from across the marsh, springing like a startled rabbit over reeds and lily pads. The shallow water she disturbed splashed across her tawny pelt, sparkling with the fading sunlight. Before long, she disappeared far ahead, catching up to Blackpaw.

Mudpaw a little ahead of Sedgepaw, flopping into the water as he stumbled into a mud paddy. She eyed his hind leg, noticing blood begin to trickle from the cobwebs as it reopened. As he rose to his paws again, his legs began to shake. It would not be long before she overtook him.

Charging forward, her eyes gleamed with anticipation as she came close to Mudpaw. He was just starting to run again, and Sedgepaw could see the blood dripping from his wound turn into a steady trickle. Sedgepaw slowed as she got a tail-length away from him, feeling sympathetic for Mudpaw as he lumbered ahead. Though she wanted to succeed, she felt bad passing her brother so callously.

"Are you okay, Mudpaw?" Sedgepaw called out to him, panting.

Her brother started before glancing back at her with a scowl. Mud was splashed across his chest and face, darkening his features, and his eyes seemed to glow. "Don't worry about me!" he snapped. "I'm fine." He began to push ahead, forcing his legs to run faster.

Sedgepaw was able to keep close to him with ease, for has leg labored each movement. "Mudpaw, let me help you! Once you get out of the mud, it won't be as hard."

"Get away from me!" Mudpaw hissed. "I can do this on my own."

Rolling her eyes, she knew her brother remain set in his ways. She was already walking on thin ice around him after last night, but she refused to let him struggle. "Just because you can do this on your own doesn't mean you have to," she reasoned, falling into step beside him. She nudged him forward as his paws fought against a slimy patch of pondweed, and he growled.

"Stop!" he protested, shrugging her off. "I don't want your help."

Before Sedgepaw could counter, Mudpaw sprang away, kicking up weeds and mud into her face. She hissed at him. "Why are you so stubborn?!" She pushed through the shallow marsh, her long fur collecting more peat with each step. "I'm your sister! I want to be there for you!"

Though she called after him in desperation, Mudpaw did not slow as he drug himself towards the shore. Sedgepaw could see Gingerstep waiting patiently on the sandy bank that flanked the palmetto field. They were almost out of the marsh! As Sedgepaw raced ahead, she caught up with Mudpaw again in no time. However, she froze when she noticed movement in her periphery. Craning her neck to a cluster of dead reeds that slouched in the marsh, she spotted two beady eyes hovering at the surface of the water. Submerged was a long, thin body that wriggled through the shallow mud pools with ease. Its scales gleamed in the burning sunlight, a warning to all that dared cross it.

"Mudpaw," Sedgepaw hissed, her breath caught in her throat. "Don't... move."

Her brother hesitated, turning on her with a curled lip. "What? You're playing tricks on me now?" He chuckled humorlessly. "You realize I'm not so helpless, so you're trying to trip me up?" He shook his head, taking a step forward. As the bog rippled from his movement, the viper stilled in the water, its tongue flickering to taste the air.

"Mudpaw… listen to me… there's a viper…" Sedgepaw whispered, her entire body trembling as she stared ahead at the amber, unblinking eyes of the water moccasin.

Scoffing, Mudpaw turned from her, and Sedgepaw could see the muscles in his back legs coil as he prepared to spring away from her. In a panic, she lunged for Mudpaw, sinking her claws into his back legs. With a snarl, he began to splash and flail at the water, and she whined in response when the viper coiled back, its lips parting to reveal an alabaster mouth.

"Mudpaw! Stop!" she begged.

"Let go of me!"

Mudpaw took a swipe at her face, slicing across her nose. Though her eyes watered with pain, she refused to release him to the waiting jaws of the startled viper. In their struggle, loud splashing sounded from behind. Sedgepaw glanced back to see Toadpaw bungling through the marsh. Upon seeing Sedgepaw shackling Mudpaw, he chortled and shook his head.

"What's got you guys tangled up?" He laughed, passing them by with his nose turned up. "I'll be sure to let Whitestar know you both are playing dirty!" His jest was followed by loud splashing as he flopped passed them sloppily.

Sedgepaw tensed, digging her claws into Mudpaw even deeper as he tried to yank away, screeching after his partner. "You mousebrain!" he snapped. "Help me!"

"Toadpaw! Stop!" Sedgepaw called after Toadpaw, but her cries were silenced when Mudpaw landed a kick against her face. Toadpaw only chuckled, overtaking them as they remained entwined in their struggle. Sedgepaw's shoulders screamed as she maintained her grip on Mudpaw. She opened her mouth to warn Toadpaw once more, but was silenced by his blood curdling wail.

As he jumped near the patch of reeds, the viper struck like lightning. Its fangs dug into his neck as it launched itself at Toadpaw. As he careened into the mud, the snake slithered off briskly, hiding far off in the deep marsh away from them. The apprentice's wail was shrill enough to startle a flock of snowy egrets. White feathers fell to the marsh in their wake, for they flew far into the heavens, becoming one with the clouds. Below, they left a tragedy. Sedgepaw released her brother, and he limped to his friend, eyes wide in terror. Sedgepaw followed him, speechless.

Toadpaw was writhing in the marsh, his jaw locked as spit foamed from his lips. His eyes darted wildly, and his head jerked back. Mud slathered his body as he seized and convulsed, darkening his fur. Sedgepaw saw blood beading at his neck, dripping into the bog relentlessly.

"Toadpaw!" Mudpaw shrieked, pressing his paws into his chest. "Toadpaw!"

Sedgepaw shut her eyes and bowed her head. "He got bit, Mudpaw," she murmured somberly.

"Shut up!" Mudpaw spat, squeezing his eyes shut. "This is my fault… Why didn't you just let me go?" He turned on her. "I could've… I could've killed that snake!"

Sedgepaw shook her head, knowing her brother was going mad with pain. "Mudpaw… it couldn't be helped-"

"You let him go! You saw it, and you let him go!"

"I tried to stop him!" Sedgepaw protested, taken back by her brother's rage.

"Just shut up!" Mudpaw cried, burying his face into Toadpaw's flank.

Sedgepaw glanced up when she saw Gingerstep racing into the marsh. Her golden eyes were full of fear when she came upon the wailing, convulsing Toadpaw. Her ginger fur began to prickle as she realized the gravity of what occurred.

"Calm down," she urged the apprentices, voice shaking. "We need to get him back to camp as soon as possible." She turned to Mudpaw. "Help me drag him."

Sedgepaw leaned forward, but Gingerstep shook her head. "No, the only other apprentice that can help Toadpaw is his partner. You need to continue."

"But-"

Gingerstep's eyes softened, but her mew was firm. "No, Sedgepaw. You must go."

Sedgepaw turned from them, taking a step toward the palmetto field. Hesitating, she glanced back as Mudpaw helped hoist Toadpaw onto Gingerstep's back. The ginger she-cat noticed Sedgepaw's misgivings and hissed. "I said go, Sedgepaw!" The warrior was adamant. "Run! Keep running! You must finish your test."

Shutting her eyes, Sedgepaw shot forward. Though her body felt numb, her heart came alive. Dread and determination and fear flooded her senses. Before long, she was crashing through the palm fronds of palmettos, kicking up dust onto her damp, muddy fur. Daylight waned, staining the territory red as she pressed on. Sunset arrived against the blood red horizon, and the further Sedgepaw ran, the more the conclusion became clear… Toadpaw was dead…

Toadpaw was dead. Mudpaw failed.


	18. Accolade

SHADOWS crept from behind the cypress trees, reaching out for Sedgepaw as she ran. She could only hear air filling and escaping her lungs as she pushed through the cypress swamp. Humidity clung to the air, weighing it down onto her body, making her strides heavy. Mud crusted against her thick fur, flaking off as she pushed passed myrtle bushes and swathes of ferns.

Behind her, she knew Toadpaw was being hauled away. His body would be limp by now, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as spittle dripped down his chin. Mudpaw would be by his side, head low, eyes half-shut, mourning.

She ran faster.

The camp would be confused, then shocked, only to be devoured by grief. Sandthroat would demand for Heronpaw to do anything, everything to save his apprentice, knowing it would all be in vain.

Sedgepaw crashed through the underbrush, leaves clinging to her fur as thorns scratched at her legs.

Russetnose would burst from the elders den, overcome with dread, as he beheld the limp body of his only son. He would collapse on top of him, cursing the stars for taking his son away.

Night emerged, drenching the sky in indigo. Stars began to appear above in the moonless sky. The eternal blackness above consumed what remained of the tiny sliver of moonlight. Dark ruled the swamp, even the crickets were too frightened to sing their song. In the quiet, Sedgepaw's head pounded with thoughts of Toadpaw and Mudpaw, shaking her.

Sedgepaw slowed as she recognized the narrow trail Blueflower showed her, the trail leading to the springs. The dust tickled her toes as a soft breeze rustled the myrtle bushes and buttonbush that lined the path. Her paws felt like they were about to fall off as she began her trek down the narrow path.

Guilt ate at her insides, and she felt hollow. Was Toadpaw dead because of her? Her gait slowed to a walk. She felt ready to give up. She wanted to turn back and vouch for Mudpaw. The freak accident cost him his chance at warriorhood… and it was her fault! She saw the viper, she should have done more… Squeezing her eyes shut, she pushed through the bracken with her head low. The scent of fresh spring water and the trill of frogs was what prompted her to open her eyes again.

When she did, she saw the three remaining apprentices sitting before her. Blackpaw, Yewpaw, and Ospreypaw were murmuring to one another, but when they saw Sedgepaw, they fell silent. Behind them, the effervescent springs rested, bubbling gently as the stars twinkled at the surface. Whitestar and Redleaf were sitting close to the lip of the spring, exchanging whispers.

Yewpaw's eyes widened as she read Sedgepaw's face. "What happened?"

Ospreypaw was instantly on her feet, rushing to her friend with concern in her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"It's Toadpaw…" she croaked. "He… he…"

"He what?" Blackpaw demanded.

"A viper bit him," Sedgepaw murmured.

"A viper?" Whitestar echoed, approaching her from the shore. "Dreadful…" The leader shook her head. "That's the last thing we need… Another body to bury."

Sedgepaw narrowed her eyes, catching her leader's use of "another." As far as anyone else knew, the last MarshClan cat to die was Rosebreath, Hollyfoot's mother. Her mind flickered to Vinestripe, but she pushed the thought away. She was too tired to think about more death.

"I assume Mudpaw accompanied him back to camp?" Redleaf guessed.

"Yes, he went with Gingerstep. The viper was in the marsh." The melancholy in Sedgepaw's voice was evident, but neither the medicine cat nor the leader seemed to care. Instead, they exchanged a glance and nodded.

"A water viper's bite is potent. There's no way he survived the strike." Redleaf's voice was methodical, void of feeling. "I fear for Russetnose," he relented, finally allowing some solemnity in his words. "That was his only son, and his only kin since he lost Dustpool."

"We can mull over Russetnose after this test," Whitestar decided. The impatient flicker of her tail betrayed her frustration. "Due to the unfortunate passing of Toadpaw, StarClan rest his soul, both he and Mudpaw failed to complete the last challenge. We will be continuing on without them, and the remaining apprentices will not be given a failure for the speed challenge."

Sedgepaw opened her mouth to protest her leader's callous dismissal of Toadpaw, but Whitestar was already leading them along the shore of the Starlit Springs. She followed after the group with her head low, tail dragging. Exhaustion threatened to overcome her. Ospreypaw's scent comforted her as they walked alongside one another, and it was the only thing that kept her wits about her.

The cats continued along the shore in silence, becoming nothing but black silhouettes against the ethereal blue springs. As they made their trek to the Lunar Cavern, the stars seemed to descend on them, blinking at their paws.

"Fireflies," Sedgepaw whispered, eyes widening.

The little lights danced around the cats, flickering like minuscule embers in the night. To Sedgepaw's surprise, Whitestar seemed annoyed by their presence, and she flicked them away from her with her long tail. Redleaf seemed perturbed as well, for he picked up the pace.

"These are pretty," Ospreypaw observed. Sedgepaw could hear a smile in her voice.

"Yeah," Sedgepaw agreed. She thought about telling her friend the legend Blueflower shared with her, but thought better of it. There was a reason the warrior shared the story in secrecy. She also did not trust speaking of such mysticism around Whitestar or Redleaf; who knew what they approved of?

As they pressed on, it became evident that the fireflies favored Yewpaw. They slowly began to hover around her in a cluster, looking like a flame that lapped at her frame. Her sister seemed conscious of their presence, for her ears twitched and swiveled as if the bugs spoke to her. Sedgepaw grew concerned. If fireflies could talk, what would they say? Then again, if they were truly the lost souls of the dead… Sedgepaw imagined they had a lot in their mind.

"How are you feeling?" Ospreypaw murmured to Sedgepaw, clearly not noticing how the fireflies continued to collect around Yewpaw.

"I'm okay… Just tired." Sedgepaw was lying, but she refused to unveil her true feelings, fearing they would pour out of her relentlessly, too strong for her to stop.

"Is that all?" Ospreypaw pressed, unconvinced.

Sedgepaw was unable to say more, for she witnessed her sister deliberately divert from the path, trotting briskly toward the springs. The fireflies crowded her, illuminating her tawny fur in the night, twinkling near her face, which was awestruck. Her ears continued to tremble, and her face was unphased as she set foot in the spring, causing the still water to ripple.

"Yewpaw?" Blackpaw called out, stepping toward her. Confusion littered his features, and he appeared scattered the moment Yewpaw strayed from his side.

Sedgepaw also took a step toward her sister, concerned. Yewpaw froze with one paw in the springs, her lips parted as if she was about to speak. Ospreypaw, Whitestar, and Redleaf remained standing still, mystified.

Redleaf sighed sadly. "It's the fireflies," he assessed grimly. "They must be speaking to her."

"Wh-What are they saying?" Blackpaw demanded. "Are they asking her to go for a swim?" Though he tried to joke and lighten the mood, the fear in his voice was evident.

"Let us pray they aren't," Redleaf rasped. "Fireflies are tricky creatures. They've been known to spirit away cats, whisk them far off into a land in-between the living and the dead."

Sedgepaw's ears flicked. That sounded nothing like what Blueflower told her. Was this what the warrior meant when she said Sedgepaw needed to know the "truth" before her test? She remained skeptical of her medicine cat, feeling mistrust for the odd glint in his eyes.

"If Yewpaw submerges herself in the springs, the fireflies can steal her soul."

Redleaf's growl only frightened Blackpaw more, for he turned to rush to Yewpaw.

"Stop!" Redleaf hissed after him. "If you touch her, you could fall victim to their magic as well!"

"I don't care!" Blackpaw snapped. "I… I can't lose her."

"Blackpaw you received an order from your medicine cat." Whitestar's calm, cold voice froze Blackpaw, and he remained still under her icy glare. "Do not disobey him."

"But—But I'm her partner! I must help her!" Blackpaw begged.

Sedgepaw was taken back by Blackpaw's emotion. Suddenly, the cocky, brazen apprentice she knew him to be transformed into a passionate, desperate cat she never knew existed. Perhaps she was too hard on him? Maybe she had him pegged wrong. The care and devotion in his eyes for Yewpaw was never more evident before tonight.

"Enough of this," Whitestar hissed. "This is a challenge of Yewpaw's spirit. Though it is occurring outside the Cavern, it does not make it any less of her own. Allow her to overcome this obstacle and stand down." Her final two words were etched with a chilling warning.

Ears folded, Blackpaw bowed his head to Whitestar, slowly returning to her.

Meanwhile, Yewpaw remained standing in the springs as the fireflies began to circle her. Sedgepaw pricked her ears, wanting to hear for their whispers, but she heard nothing but the screeching frogs and rustles of nocturnal animals in the underbrush. Yewpaw set all four of her paws into the springs, eyes wide as a full moon.

Sedgepaw uttered a silent prayer for Yewpaw, begging for her to snap out of this trance. After the forest seemed to stand still, a rush of wind buffeted the cats, and Yewpaw's fur stood on end. All the fireflies simultaneously extinguished their lights as if blown out by the breeze. The tawny apprentice shook her head, panting softly, and she snapped her head around to stare at the cats surrounding her.

"I—uhm—I don't know what came over me," she admitted sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

Whitestar nodded, continuing along the path in silence. Redleaf, however, lingered, eyeing her curiously. Sedgepaw felt her fur prickle protectively as the medicine cat's eyes glowed for Yewpaw. She made sure to fall into step close behind her sister, brushing passed Redleaf while casting him a baleful glare. The medicine cat did not seem to take notice of Sedgepaw's mistrust, for he still stared after Yewpaw with piqued interest.

"That was weird," Blackpaw was murmuring to Yewpaw. Sedgepaw strained her ears to listen to their conversation. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing… I… it's hard to explain." Yewpaw shrugged him off, her voice quivering. "If I could tell you, I would."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Blackpaw grumbled, frustrated.

"Don't worry about it," Sedgepaw growled at him. "She gave you her answer. Leave her be."

"Who asked you?" Blackpaw hissed, turning his head back to her with a curled lip. "At least I went after her, you were content to watch her get taken away."

"What do you know?" Sedgepaw growled. "I care for her just as much as you do."

"Could've fooled me," Blackpaw sniffed. "I was the only one willing to go after her."

"Just shut up before I claw your face off!" Sedgepaw snapped, growing tired of the relentless rebuttal.

Blackpaw scoffed. "Typical Sedgepaw, resorting to violence to get her point across."

"Would you both stop bickering?" Ospreypaw growled. "The Cavern is ahead."

Sedgepaw was distracted from her rage by a massive wall of stone. The brown rockface was scarred by crags that harbored spongy clumps of moss. The spring fed into its side, splashing gently against the wall to darken its shade. The mouth of the cave was lopsided like a yawning snake, and a curtain of moss shielded it from the elements.

Whitestar hesitated at the entrance, waiting for the rest of the group to catch up. Sedgepaw was in awe of the vast wall of rock. She could not see over it or around it. On one side was the spring, and on the other the cypress forest, but the cave was so vast it threatened to dominate both landscapes with its rocky presence.

"Behold," Whitestar meowed. She turned to the apprentices, expression blank. "This is the last challenge. It will take your skills in spirit to overcome it and become a warrior at last."

"It is your job to work together with your partner, navigate the tunnels, and find the Lunar Cavern," Redleaf spoke up from the back of the group. "Do not tread lightly. This is a labyrinth carved by time and endless rivulets of water, and it keeps the sanctity of our ancestors safe."

"So long as you stick together, you will be fine," Whitestar assured them. "Walking these tunnels alone is dangerous. Many cats pining for StarClan have gotten lost in here, never to emerge again."

"Whitestar will be going in first," Redleaf mewed. "She will be waiting for you in the Cavern. I will remain within the entrance."

"You have all night to find the Cavern. If you do not find it before sunrise, if you exit the tunnels without finding the Cavern, or if you get lost and do not exit with your leader at the end, you will fail this challenge," Whitestar explained studiously. "We will do our best to find you find you if you get lost, but there is no guarantee."

"Though we cannot force you to work with your partner once you're in the tunnels, it will behoove you to not go through this alone," Redleaf stressed.

All apprentices nodded in understanding. Sedgepaw wouldn't dream of leaving Ospreypaw in the tunnels alone.

As Whitestar entered the curtain of moss, she pressed close to her partner. They were so close now. The key to their earning of their warrior names stood before them, and it was as daunting an obstacle as it was vast. Sedgepaw had not the slightest clue what awaited her in the darkness of the tunnels.

It felt like moons passed by while Sedgepaw and the other apprentices waited for the go ahead from Redleaf. She gazed at the stars that shone in the sky, wondering. Would StarClan finally answer all her questions?

"Apprentices, you may proceed," Redleaf rasped. "May StarClan light your path."

The pairs of apprentices approached the mouth of the cave slowly, collectively knowing and not knowing what was in store. The greatest mystery was about to be unveiled to them should they succeed: the power of StarClan. The Lunar Cavern, the place of worship for all of MarshClan, was so full of unbridled spiritual energy, that only the leader and medicine cat could enter unescorted.

And yet, the final challenge, spirit, had the apprentices go against everything they were told as kits. The greatest secret all apprentices came to realize: in order to become a warrior, they had to enter these hallowed tunnels… and find the Lunar Cavern without the guidance of their leader or medicine cat. As Sedgepaw set foot into the cave, her paw was greeted by the cool, smooth touch of stone.

Though the tunnels were engulfed in a black miasma, once her eyes adjusted she was able to perceive the silhouettes of massive precipices that flanked either side of her. Rivers of scarlet floatsone, frozen in time, seemed to be pouring from the roof, to spill at her paws in ripples of brown, red, and orange.

"This is unbelievable," she whispered.

"I don't like it…" Ospreypaw muttered. "It just looks cold."

Sedgepaw turned to her friend, smiling. "Let's get through this. Once we do, we will finally be warriors!" She tried to remain positive, but Toadpaw's fate remained to cloud her mind and dampen her spirit.

"Okay." Ospreypaw mewed. She glanced about the cave. "Where should we start?"

Though the narrow entryway remained singular, Sedgepaw was able to see it split into three directions up ahead. The fork in the road could mean their victory or their ultimate failure. It all depended on the path they chose.

"If it's a test of spirit… maybe we need to feel which way is best?" Sedgepaw suggested.

"They all feel equally hopeless to me," Ospreypaw deadpanned.

Chuckling, Sedgepaw approached the passageways. Her laugh echoed down their depths, prompting Sedgepaw to go silent. The sound of water dripping from the roof reverberated as she glanced between the passageways. They were all identical in width, and seemingly length, for the far stretches of each pathway were swallowed by shadows.

"We could always follow Yewpaw and Blackpaw," Sedgepaw mewed. She could easily pick up on her sister's scent, which led her into the middle passageway.

"But what if they're wrong?" Ospreypaw countered.

Ospreypaw was right. Though she trusted her sister, she knew the purpose of the challenge was to rely on her partner not her kin. Shutting her eyes, Sedgepaw strained her ears, hoping to find something, anything, that would lend her a hint. She thought she heard whispers, carried in a gust of wind the bellowed from the far left passage.

"Did you hear that?" Sedgepaw whispered breathlessly.

Ospreypaw's fur was standing on end as she nodded. "Yes… whispers."

"It could be Them."

Sedgepaw raced for the far left pathway, panting excitedly as the whispers grew more numerous. Ospreypaw was on her heels, her warm breath hot on her toes. The path grew more narrow, and Sedgepaw's fur brushed against the cold stone walls on either side. The whispers coaxed her onward, and though she could not decipher words, she knew what was being spoken was meant for her and Ospreypaw.

The pathway led to an open dome that was almost as tall as a tree. She gazed above, witnessing an indigo canvas splattered with silver stars, shining for her. They lit the cave with their dim glow, chasing the shadows from the center.

"StarClan!" She mewed.

Ospreypaw came beside her, glancing around. "I don't think this is it," she mewed to Sedgepaw.

Though the sight was breathtaking, she knew her friend was right. Whitestar was nowhere to be found. She sat on the cool rock, sighing. Their challenge was far from over.

The whispers continued.

Sedgepaw's eyes narrowed as she honed in on the source of the whispers. A small hole in the wall resided at the far side of the den, and Sedgepaw gasped. "Follow me!"

Racing across the cave, she came upon the small tunnel that burrowed into the wall. It was so small that they needed to crawl if they were to travel through it.

Ospreypaw gave a snort of disbelief. "I don't think that's a good idea," she murmured.

"Can't you hear Them?" Sedgepaw reasoned. "Remember, this is a test of our spirit. It's not supposed to be easy!"

"I know!" She shrugged. "I just don't like the idea of tight spaces."

"Come on, we will be fine," Sedgepaw encouraged.

As she turned to the hole, she realized her own misgivings. Such a small tunnel could easily narrow into a trap that would prevent them from escaping. They could remained entombed in it forever… Sedgepaw shook her head. Enough doubt! She needed to get through this to become a warrior. There was no turning back now.

Plunging into the tunnel, she scrabbled away, crawling into its depths. Before long, her whiskers were brushing against the walls, which hugged her broad frame like a cold cocoon. She wriggled on, but as the tunnel became tighter, she had less room to maneuver, and soon had to resort to dragging herself one outstretched paw at a time. She thought she heard heavy breathing, and a heartbeat. They became louder and louder, and she felt like the walls were trembling.

"Sedgepaw, I'm scared!" Ospreypaw cried out behind her. The sound of her voice was muffled by the confines of the tunnel.

Sedgepaw felt like she was gulping for air and knew fear radiated from her pelt. "We're close!" she called back, lying, knowing her friend may not hear her. "Don't give up!"

Ahead, she only saw darkness. The whispers morphed into distorted murmurs, laughs, and cries. The voices of the dead seemed to surround her, crushing her body with the weight of their past. So many stories flooded her ears, lost in translation as a filter time and dimensions divided them. She could smell the scents of cats unknown to her, but familiar all the same.

Just as Sedgepaw thought she would be suffocated by the madness of her transit, she pushed herself out into a massive cavern. Freed, she took a deep breath and allowed her heartbeat to return to normal. The cavern was split by spring water, which hugged a rocky shore. Boulders built a bridge to the center of the crystalline pool, with the last piece resting broad and flat in the middle.

Sedgepaw turned to the tiny tunnel entrance, her heart stopping when she realized Ospreypaw failed to leave the tunnel with her. She hurried to it, sniffing at the entrance, only to nearly jump out of her fur when Ospreypaw burst from it with a loud gasp for air.

"That was awful!" she wailed.

Sedgepaw laughed, almost hysterically. It was awful. This whole day had been awful. But it was finally coming to an end. "We made it," she murmured to her.

Ospreypaw's eyes widened as she took in the sight. "This is the Lunar Cavern?" She was breathless. The starlight shone on her black and white pelt with a pale sheen.

Sedgepaw caught herself admiring the contours of Ospreypaw's strong legs. The lighting had a talent for highlighting her features. She shook her head, knowing better than to stare for too long. She padded up beside her partner, admiring the encapsulated view of the night sky.

"This has to be it," Sedgepaw murmured. Her golden eyes fell on the flat stone that sat in the middle of the Cavern. As she narrowed her eyes, she was stunned to see a fine layer of sand, pale as sugar, on its surface. What was more disconcerting, no pawprints were to be seen. Weren't Redleaf and Whitestar supposedly here just yesterday?

Curious, Sedgepaw drew closer to the shore and bridge of rocks. The scents of cats were so stale along the pebbly bank, that Sedgepaw could only identify them as MarshClan and nothing more. Peculiar…

"Where's Whitestar?" Ospreypaw wondered, wandering about the Cavern, wide-eyed.

Sedgepaw glanced around again. It would be easy to see her stark white pelt against the earthen canvas, but she only saw shadows. One shadow in particular was wider and deeper than them all, and it took a moment to realize that it was a large entryway. Perhaps the main entryway? From its depths, a pair of burning amber eyes shone, and Sedgepaw flinched back when the ghostly white figure of Whitestar detached from the darkness.

"I'm here," Whitestar mewed coolly. "Well done." Her eyes slid to gaze behind the apprentices. "I see you took the most difficult path to arrive here. An omen for challenges and great pressures ahead, but your ability to perservere foretells success."

Sedgepaw smiled. Though she had an idea of what challenges lay ahead of her, she was pleased to know she had a chance to overcome them.

Paws patting against the earth sounded from the wide mouth Whitestar entered from. Blackpaw and Yewpaw burst into the Cavern, panting and smiling as they exchanged a triumphant glance with one another. Though Blackpaw's jaw was still swollen from battle, he managed a grin wider than Mother Lake itself.

"And it seems Blackpaw and Yewpaw took the road most traveled, for those destined to rely on the tried and true way toward success and mold their desires to best combat the tribulations around them." Whitestar nodded appreciatively. A Cheshire grin remained on her muzzle as she spoke. "The reality of the spirit challenge is this: all the pathes at the beginning of the tunnels would've led you here eventually. It was only the doubt in your mind or your lack of belief in StarClan that could've set you back from accomplishing this task."

Sedgepaw's eyes widened. It was… a trick? To think… she could've made it to the end without her struggle through the narrow tunnel.

"However, your faith in yourself and the Stars has proven true! Apprentices, follow me to the heart of the Lunar Cavern," the leader commanded.

Whitestar flicked her tail for them to follow, and Sedgepaw sprung forward, giddy on her paws. This was it! As her first paw touched the stone leading to the center slab, she felt a shiver down her spine. They began to hop from rock to rock, and as Sedgepaw came closer, she felt more and more excitement rush through her veins.

Though Ospreypaw was quiet, she could see the excitement in her friend's eyes as they lept from rock to rock, drawing closer to the heart of the Cavern. Behind her, she could hear the excited murmurs exchanged between Yewpaw and Blackpaw, and she shared their enthusiasm.

Once Whitestar set foot on the center slab, a silvery cloud of gust stirred around her like a plume of smoke. The stale scent of MarshClan churned with it, reminding Sedgepaw of a peculiar detail: why did the slab not smell of Whitestar or Redleaf? They were just here yesterday…

Stirred from her perplexion, when Sedgepaw set foot on the slab, her muscles hummed with an unspeakable energy. The strength of all her ancestors pulsed within her, and she thought she could hear their breaths and taste their scent. Surrounding her was the crystalline spring water that bled into the cave from the Starlit Springs. At the bottom, of unveiled several rocky clusters, porous from erosion, where algae of all colors of the rainbow gathered. Without the light of the moon, the reflection of the stars was more apparent, glistening at the surface.

Surrounded by the beauty and mystery of it all, Sedgepaw was speechless as she sat before Whitestar in a daze. As the other apprentices took their place before their leader, she gazed at the sky.

"StarClan, I bring these apprentices to you today as tribute, for they have shown the utmost devotion to You and MarshClan in their moons of training." As she spoke, Whitestar's eyes were on the stars, and she seemed entranced by their pale shine. "In turn, I humbly ask, as leader of MarshClan, that you bestow your guardianship and guidance in their impending moons as warriors and recognize their true names as we gather before Your grace."

True names… Sedgepaw felt her heart soar. She would receive her warrior name tonight. Before her heart could soar over the moon, it fell, hard and fast, into the pit of her stomach when she realized the two apprentices that were missing. Toadpaw. Mudpaw. They both should have been here tonight. Sedgepaw's eyes fell to her paws solemnly. How could she celebrate knowing what had been undone?

"With permission of our ancestors, I shall place my paw into the pool and receive their power and divinity," Whitestar announced, continuing to recite the ancient warrior-naming tradition.

She turned, facing the still spring water. Sedgepaw watched, eyes as wide as a full moon. With an outstretched paw, Whitestar dabbed her toes in the water. Upon touching its surface, the crystalline water surrounding them was instantly turned red; its beautiful blue surface became a memory, as sticky, thick fluid took its place. Sedgepaw froze. Her jaw opened, lips trembling, when she saw her leader lift her paw from the pool, her white fur stained and dripping with blood.

Whitestar approached her, and Sedgepaw was too terrified to speak. Her leader seemed ignorant to the blood on her paws. As she pressed her paw to Sedgepaw's chest, the liquid felt warm, and it smelled of fresh blood. Sedgepaw almost gagged.

"StarClan, the apprentice before me has continuously displayed great ferocity in battle. Her willingness to strike down those that harm our Clan, and her willingness to laying her own life down in order to protect others has inspired me to bestow this name on her: Sedgestrike."

Sedgestrike was too consumed by the smell of blood to murmur a thanks. She only bowed her head. Her tongue felt like it turned to ash, drying her mouth and throat out beyond repair.

As Whitestar moved on the Ospreypaw, the blood surrounding them remained. She stole a glance at her friend, seeing that she too, like Whitestar, was unperturbed by the surrounding gore. Even as their leader pressed her bloody paw to her chest, she did not seem to notice.

"StarClan, the apprentice before me has exhibited swiftness in thought and gait since the start of her training. Her ability to think and move quickly has long been a boon for her and the Clanmates that rely on her. Due to her skill, I have decided to dub her: Ospreyflight."

The Cavern was quiet as Whitestar moved on. For Sedgestrike, the scent of blood was overpowering. Blackpaw was just as ignorant. His chin was raised proudly, jaw still swollen, and his green eyes blazed with confidence. When Whitestar touched her paw to his chest, his back straightened.

"StarClan, the apprentice before me has long shown courage and the will to protect the weak and misfortunate. His loyalty to MarshClan unquestionable. In honor of his vigilance and valiant heart, I bestow shall bestow this name: Blackhawk."

Lastly, Whitestar came before Yewpaw. Sedgestrike gazed over the heads of her Clanmates beside her to see if she also seemed unaware of Whitestar's bloody accolade. To her surprise, and eerie relief, Yewpaw's fur was standing on end. Her green eyes darted about the Cavern wildly, in fright, and when Whitestar lifted her paw to push it gently against her chest, she froze. Did Yewpaw see the madness too?

"StarClan, the apprentice before me is known for supporting and encouraging her Clanmates. She is always willing to lend words of advice or comfort, and her spirit has proven to withstand the greatest adversities. Therefore, I think it's most appropriate to name her: Yewbranch."

Stepping back from the newly-named warriors, Whitestar took a seat before them once more. As she left them, the water surrounding them slowly faded back to normal. Sedgestrike shivered as the last metallic whiff of blood bled into the air before being drowned out by the scent of wet stone and the night sky.

"StarClan, I present these new warriors to You. I entreat You to accept their names and hearts into Your arms, and embrace their destinies as warriors of MarshClan!" Whitestar's voice echoed through the Cavern; it reverberated off the walls, causing loosely-clinging gravel to rattle onto the floor from the ceiling. Though there was no verbal response from their ancestors, the silence was heavy, and it felt like they were surrounded. The feeling did not fade as Whitestar spoke again, "Congratulations, you are all now warriors of MarshClan."


	19. A Warrior's Welcome

ONCE Sedgestrike arrived back to MarshClan camp, the sun was on the rise. The shadows of night were all but a distant memory as dawn drained its darkness; replacing it was a canvas of pastels in the sky that shone in the reflections of the dewdrops that shivered on the reeds and grasses. Distant clouds, silvered by daybreak's pale gold light, whispered of an impending storm. Rain would become more commonplace as the days of riverswell came into full bloom. MarshClan existed in a pendulum, which swung to and fro between wet and dry seasons, riverswell and rivernarrow respectively. The scent of rain in the air coupled with the sticky humidity that clung to Sedgestrike's pelt alerted her of several storms to come.

Riverswell brought with it as much life as it did destruction. Sedestrike gazed across the marsh, looking north towards Mother Lake and MarshClan camp. Soon, Mother Lake would be replenished to her full glory, much like her sister, the moon. Fishing would become popular again for hunting parties. However, should Mother Lake become too swollen with rain water, her girth could swallow MarshClan camp, and force them to migrate to the palmetto fields and sparse pine forest that flanked the cypress swamp.

It was a period of transformation for more than just MarshClan's newest warriors. All around them, the world was evolving and molding to the merciless speed of time. Sedgestrike felt caught in the midst of it, entangled in a perpetual metamorphosis that threatened to strangle her should she learn how to contort and twist her body to the fancy of the strings. Since the final moon of her apprenticeship, she was riddled with signs and omens that kept her up at night. In her heart, she knew the visions would not evaporate now that she was a warrior. In fact, she felt they would only become more fierce. If she truly had a destiny to fulfill, it would only become more demanding now that she came of age.

Pushing through the stalks of maidencane and sawgrass, Sedgestrike followed Whitestar as she led them back to camp. Her heart fluttered. She was returning to MarshClan a warrior. Behind her, she could feel excitement teeming from her fellow rookies. Blackhawk in particular, was galavanting through the brush like a buck showing off his new rack of antlers. Head high, chin raised, voice boisterious, Sedgestrike felt consumed-if not suffocated-by his energy. She only wished she could share it. She was haunted by her latest vision: Whitestar's paw turning the Lunar Cavern's water to blood. She christened Sedgestrike and the others with that same paw, and it felt like she doomed them rather than commended them.

As Sedgestrike set foot into camp, she was greeted by another grave reminder: Toadpaw.

Lying limp in the clearing, his bloated body was adorned with marigold, tiny milkweed blossoms, and white wax begonia petals. In his locked jaw was a bundle of sage, which was said to help the dead on their walk to StarClan. Collapsed over his body was the shaggy frame of Russetnose. He appeared to be asleep, for his body rose and fell slowly. Surrounding the fallen apprentice were the other MarshClan cats that would be responsible for his burial: Heronpaw, Sandthroat, and Mudpaw.

"Oh no," Yewbranch whimpered. Sedgestrike could see her green eyes glistening as she pushed passed them. She went straight for Mudpaw, greeting him with consoling licks and mews. Sedgestrike watched as her brother stiffened and shoved her off with a grumble. Yewbranch flinched back and her tail drooped.

"Hey, what was that for?" Blackhawk barked. The long-haired warrior's paws thundered as she ran to Yewbranch. "She was only trying to help you feel better," he reminded Mudpaw.

Sedgestrike frowned when Mudpaw returned Blackhawk's scorn with a hollow gaze and a shrug. When his listless eyes slid behind the black warrior's and found hers, his gaze turned to a glare. Sedgestrike felt her heart sink as her brother gave a snort and looked away. He was still upset with her. Very upset with her.

"Such a grim welcome," Whitestar observed. Her voice was too calculating to hold emotion. "We should proceed with the burial straightaway. The last thing we need is to dampen moral even more."

Redleaf nodded. "They were likely waiting for your return. The leader must send off the dead to be buried, elsewise they may be doomed to wander in-between."

"Toadpaw will need you as well," Whitestar pointed out. "Heronpaw may have dressed the body, but he has not been recognized by StarClan. You must be there when he is laid to rest."

Sedgestrike's ears swiveled as she continued to eavesdrop on the leader and medicine cat as they divvied up their responsibilities. Their exchange felt methodical, cold, as if they were carrying out a chore rather than burying a Clanmate.

As they continued to linger on the fringe of camp, Sedgestrike felt Ospreyflight brush against her. "You know that it's not your fault, right?" she murmured.

Sedgestrike avoided her stare. "It feels like it is." She grimaced, growing angry at herself. "I saw the viper… I tried to stop Mudpaw, but he wouldn't listen. I-I couldn't save them both."

"But you at least were able to save one of them," Ospreyflight reasoned. "We may have had two bodies to bury if you didn't."

"It shouldn't have been a trade-off!" Sedgestrike hissed, crushing her paw into the earth as she stamped it.

Whitestar was making her way to the Fallen Cypress as Sedgestrike was assaulted by guilt. Redleaf followed suit, sitting at the foot of the hollow cypress trunk, tail wrapped neatly around his paws. Neither stopped to acknowledge Toadpaw's body nor offer condolences to his gathered loved ones. Sedgestrike felt a pang of rage. How could they be so heartless? She instinctively drew closer to her leader, knowing she was about to call the Clan to gather, careful not to come too close to Mudpaw.

"MarshClan!" Whitestar yowled. "I call you to gather before the Fallen Cypress, I have important announcements to make."

Cats, warriors, apprentices, queens, and elders slowly poured from their respective dens. Only the dawn patrol and sentinels were out of camp, so MarshClan's clearing was almost full. Almost all the warriors were present, save for Hollyfoot, Zinniablossom, Fogspots, Mothfur, Littlebrook, and, Sedgestrike's heart sank, Blueflower. Sedgestrike could see young Foxpaw alongside Pebblepaw, trying to sit straighter so he could see over the warriors' heads. Lilypaw likely accompanied Mothfur on patrol. Of the queens, elderly Shellshine and a very pregnant Juniperheart sat outside the nursery. Jasminefur likely wanted to shield her kits from Toadpaw's corpse, for she remained in the nursery with them. Larkwing, Owleyes, and Cypressfang stepped outside the elders den. Vervainclaw was likely asleep still in his nest.

Surrounded by her Clan, Sedgestrike felt comforted. They all sat a respectful distance away from Toadpaw's corpse as it lay in the center of the clearing before the Fallen Cypress. For once, the Clan was quiet. No hushed murmurs or whispers fluttered between them. Only the distant, sorrowful cry of a mourning dove could be heard, echoing what all the gathered cats felt: remorse.

"As many of MarshClan's most senior members know, the final test for apprentices is rigorous and unforgiving. It hurts my heart to say that this was not the first misfortune nor the last," Whitestar began grimly, head bowed. All the cats of MarshClan reflected her, bowing their heads in silence. "However, it is the test that makes MarshClan strong and ensures we have warriors that are ready and able to endure the greatest hardships, no matter the cost. In the end, we all know it is StarClan that chooses which of our apprentices are ready to accept the duty of a warrior."

MarshClan was silent. Sedgestrike's heart felt heavy.

"Toadpaw was always full of laughs. He lived with boundless optimism, much like his father, and always knew the best places to take naps."

A resonate chuckle emerged from the gathered cats as they collectively recalled their own memories of Toadpaw lounging and chortling. Some began to murmur softly and share their recollections. Others smiled wistfully. Sedgestrike's head remained bowed, eyes shut. This was her fault. How could she enjoy Toadpaw's memory, when she was the one that reduced him to one?

"We can all sleep well tonight knowing Toadpaw remains in the welcome arms of StarClan forever. He will be greeted by his mother, Dustpool, and all of our ancestors. In life, and in death, Toadpaw will remain full of laughter and good sleep."

Redleaf stood, as if on queue, and approached Toadpaw's corpse. The apprentice's loved ones also stood, though Russetnose continued to cradle his body as he rested atop it. Redleaf lowered to murmur to the elder gently, and Russetnose hesitated before rising to his paws. Sedgestrike was shocked when it seemed he aged a hundred moons overnight. His eyes were drooping, whiskers frazzled, and he face consumed by several new gray hairs. Grief did not treat him kindly.

"With a heavy heart, I send Toadpaw to be laid to rest. Those closest to him shall lower his body while Redleaf holds a private funeral. MarshClan, make way for your our Clanmate one last time and you may pay respects as he passes." Whitestar's head rose. She watched as those closest to Toadpaw hoisted his body up to be carried, with Redleaf leading the way. "May StarClan light your path," she prayed.

As Toadpaw was carried through the crowd, which had parted for him, cats murmured their condolences and respects. Sedestrike, watching him pass, lowered her head. "I'm sorry," she mewed.

Once the funeral provision left, MarshClan returned to its usual murmuring congregation. Sedgestrike heard them speak solemnly of Russetnose and Toadpaw's fate. She felt too hollow to join them.

"There is one more announcement I must make," Whitestar continued, rising to her paws. "May our newest warriors step forward?"

Summoned from the masses, Sedgestrike robotically stepped forward. She was joined by Blackhawk, Yewbranch, and Ospreyflight. The Clan gathered around them, eyes wide, excited murmurs rising.

"I present to you MarshClan's newest warriors: Sedgestrike, Blackhawk, Yewbranch, and Ospreyflight!" Whitestar called their names out in celebration. Many of the cats cheered, but too many hearts were heavy for it to become a ruckus. Whitestar acknowledged the fluctuating morale and continued, "It is in times of great hardship that StarClan blesses us with events that deserve celebration. Though our hearts are heavy, we must remember what we should be grateful for."

The cheers became a little louder as less cats felt guilty about celebrating so soon after Toadpaw was sent off. Sedgestrike heard waves of congratulations and best wishes. She did not feel deserving of any of them. Keen on letting Blackhawk soak up all the praise, Sedgestrike began to inch away from her place before Whitestar. She wanted to get out of the spotlight. She wanted to sleep for moons. This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of her life.

Before she could make her escape, Whitestar's mew rang out once more. "What's more, we have to recognize our honor graduates."

Eager silence settled within the Clan. Sedgestrike could feel them teeming with wonder and excitement. It was beginning to rub off on her. Her curiosity was strong enough to overpower her guilt.

"MarshClan leaders have long recognized apprentices that excelled in comparison to their peers during the final test. In order to commemorate their success, they are dubbed 'honor graduates.'" Whitestar's smile was thin. "The pair of warriors with the least amount of failures on their test are as follows…" The pause that ensued charged Sedgestrike with anticipation. "Sedgestrike and Ospreyflight!"

A roar of applause followed, and MarshClan flooded Sedgestrike and her friend. She was surrounded by proud faces and jovial smiles. She got smothered in pats on the back from their tails and friendly nudges. The moniker "honor graduate" seemed more superficial now that Sedgestrike earned it. Though she was awash with celebratory mews, they fell flat on her disheartened face.

"In order to properly welcome our new honor graduates, the alumni that earned the title in the past will gather together to recognize their fraternity." Whitestar added.

Sedgestrike's ears perked. She did not know honor graduates would be given such a vast welcome. Perhaps the title was not superficial after all? Interest piqued, she tried to pick out other honor graduates from the past. She only knew of Snakefang and Juniperheart, the two most recent warriors before her and Ospreyflight to earn the title.

Sighing to herself, Sedgestrike peeled away from the crowd, allowing them to swarm Ospreyflight, Blackhawk, and Yewbranch. She longed for solitude. Her long night drained her of energy, and she thirsted for rest. Head lowered, she did not realize she was headed for the apprentices den until she was standing before it. That's right… She was not allowed to sleep there anymore.

"You want to come back already?" Foxpaw chirped. He hopped to her side with a smile. Sedgestrike returned his grin, not having the heart to resist his brimming jolliness.

"I'm just tired." Sedgestrike yawned. "I didn't realize where I was walking." She slumped, sitting on the cool grass with a sigh. "I didn't get a chance to sleep last night."

Foxpaw mimicked her, slumping into the grass with an exaggerated sigh. Sedgestrike giggled, but then grew solemn once more. It seemed Foxpaw shared Mudpaw's sense of humor. "Well, don't go in there!" Foxpaw snapped teasingly. "You're too big for the apprentices den."

Sedgestrike smirked impishly. "You're right…" She leaned back, relenting, only to sink forward. "I think I'll just sleep here."

"Wait-what?!" Foxpaw began to back away, only to be toppled by Sedgestrike as she fell onto him with a yawn. "H-hey!"

"Wow, the grass is extra comfy today." Sedgestrike purred, gazing at the slowly brightening sky as Foxpaw remained trapped under her back. Her thick, long fur concealed the little ginger apprentice, only his head popped out of the swathes of her fur. She snuggled her back on top of him, making him grunt in protest. "Good night!"

"U-ugh! You mousebrain!" Foxpaw grunted, chuckling. He wriggled like a worm beneath her. "Your big butt is crushing me!"

As Sedgestrike pretended to shut her eyes and snore, a shadow was cast over her. Foxpaw froze beneath her, and Sedgestrike peeled her eyes open to see was disturbed him. Batface was hovering over her, brow quirked. "I see becoming a warrior has failed to mature you, 'honor graduate,'" he observed tauntingly.

Sedestrike sat up in an instant, scoffing. Foxpaw scrabbled to his paws and hopped off, clearly intimidated by the senior warrior's appearance. Seeing Batface used to conjure a similar reaction from Sedgestrike when she was his new apprentice, but now, she smiled at him. "Batface," she greeted.

"Congratulations." His rasp was full of emotion, so much so that Sedgestrike could not pinpoint just one.

"Thank you, Batface… I don't think I would've made it this far without you." If her younger self witnessed this exchange, she would've gagged.

"Probably not." He chuckled as her face wrinkled. Sobering, his voice became serious. "Whether you were fated or guided to this outcome is irrelevant. A victory is a victory."

Sedgestrike's heart felt full, it threatened to swell within her chest and burst from the confines of her ribs. "Will… will you retire now?" she asked softly.

Batface's grizzled muzzled wrinkled with a grin. "I think I have a few moons left in me. I'm not ready to be reduced to a lazing sack of fur yet," he rasped. He gave an animated sigh. "But no more apprentices, that's for sure."

"Good," Sedgestrike chirped. "Wouldn't want you to get a new favorite."

"When did I say you were my favorite?"

She smiled fondly. "You didn't have to."

Batface's gravelly purr soothed Sedgestrike. They shared a comfortable silence, which came to an end when Fernstream emerged from the crowd. Her green eyes were glistening with adoration when they fell upon Sedgestrike. Batface, acknowledging her mother, bowed his head to her and slowly backed away. Sedgestrike was left to be solaced by her mother's embrace; she craned her neck to hug Sedgestrike's, purring loudly so that rumbled against her, lulling her.

"Mother," Sedgestrike breathed. She did not realize how much she needed her mother's touch until she had it.

"I'm so proud of you, Sedgestrike," she murmured. "So proud."

"But-but I didn't-"

"Shhhh… shhh… I know. Don't worry your heart." Fernstream's comforting mews dared Sedgestrike to unfold. Her worries, fears, and guilt melted from her body, and she was limp against her mother. "You've come so far, my little one. I cannot put to words how proud I am of you."

Sedgestrike could not form coherent sentences. She feared if she opened her mouth, she would sputter or cry. She remained silent, enjoying her mother's warmth.

"Don't dwell on what happened to your brother, Sedgestrike. You can't allow that to weaken your spirit."

"How do you know?"

"Gingerstep told me everything yesterday. She saw you try and stop Mudpaw and how he fought back. She tried to help you guys, but she was too late." Fernstream leaned away from Sedgestrike, gazing into her eyes. "Does that mean it's her fault?" she asked.

"No!" Sedgestrike protested. "She did everything she could! I saw her running to us!"

"You need to be just as forgiving of yourself as you are of others," Fernstream advised, smiling gently.

Sedgestrike fell silent. Of course Fernstream was right. She always was.

"It was Toadpaw's time," Fernstream added solemnly. "We cannot control StarClan's will."

"StarClan's will…" Sedgestrike's eyes widened in realization. "That's right! I had to talk to you about something."

Fernstream nodded slowly. "I hadn't forgotten."

Fatigue was replaced by fear in Sedgestrike. Shuffling her paws, she jumbled through ways to word her thoughts well.

"I… When I fell from the Great Cypress…"

"Yes?" Fernstream leaned in.

"I heard you." Sedgestrike met her mother's gaze, chin raised. "I heard what you and Redleaf were discussing."

Her mother froze, eyes wide. For once, it seemed like she didn't know what to say.

Sedgestrike lowered her voice, whispering, "I know the prophecy."

"Sedgestrike…"

Sadness overcame her. Seeing Fernstream's guilty expression, hearing the shame in her voice… Was her mother going to turn her away? Was this too much? She could not bare the thought of losing her too. She already felt like she lost Yewbranch and Mudpaw.

"I'm sorry," Fernstream mewed.

All around them, the Clan was still embalmed in chaos. A flood of emotions stirred a tempest that hummed endlessly in camp. Laughing, crying, cheering. Today was a day for celebration and remorse; joining the two opposites together created a magnetism that drew everyone together, and they meshed without noticing the dread in Sedgestrike's face nor the guilt in Fernstream's.

"I don't want you to be sorry," Sedgestriked protested. "I just want… answers."

Fernstream sighed softly, nodding. "Okay. I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"Why did you keep this from me, from us, for so long?"

"I… wanted to protect you. The prophecy tormented me before you three were even born. I could not stand the idea of you being tormented just the same." She lowered her head. "I was going to wait until all three of you became warriors and tell you everything together; I see now that it wasn't meant to be."

"You were a medicine cat apprentice? Redleaf's apprentice?" Sedgestrike leaned in, hungry for answers.

"I was… a long time ago. I wasn't older than six moons old when he took me in, saying the stars whispered my name." Fernstream shrugged. "It never felt right to me." Her gaze ventured to the gathered cats, and she smiled fondly as she watched Shaleheart and Blackhawk rub shoulders, hooting and cheering in the midst of the celebration. "I always adored your father. His boundless optimism, his laugh… I wanted to be with him more than anything."

"So you abandoned your position?" Sedgestrike pressed. "You did it all… for love?"

Fernstream nodded, still smiling. "How could I not? The thought of not being with him, having his kits, raising a family alongside him… it tortured me." She leaned in, a knowing twinkle in her eye. "Would you not do the same for love?"

Sedgestrike sat back, taken by the question. She thought… if she had to choose between being with Blueflower and being a warrior… what would she choose? In her heart, she knew the answer. Relenting, she leaned back with a soft sigh. "But why us?"

Fernstream hissed. "You are meant to be," she asserted. "That much I know. If you weren't you would not be here today. StarClan works in mysterious ways… maybe this prophecy was not meant to be taken literally?"

Sedgestrike shrugged, feeling hopeless. "I don't know what it means."

"I wish I could tell you." Fernstream's voice broke. "I really do… but I have yet to come to a conclusion." She righted herself, back straightening, eyes bright. "But I do know that I could never regret having you three. You all are my greatest treasure."

The raw, powerful love Fernstream felt threatened to sweep Sedgestrike away. No one could convince her that her mother was not the strongest warrior in the Clan. For her to defy even the stars, potentially, in the name of being a mother… Sedgestrike could only dream for such resolve.

"Yewbranch and Mudpaw know," Sedgestrike added, ears folded.

"They what?" Fernstream gasped, shock etching across her face.

"I told them two days ago…" Sedgestrike admitted, averting her gaze. "They… didn't believe me. Mudpaw got very upset."

Fernstream sighed sympathetically. "It'll be okay, Sedgestrike. Maybe it's best if they don't believe… a prophecy like this... it's… hard to handle." She shook her head. "Mudpaw is so much like your father. He enjoys life too much to imagine it not meant to be." Fernstream sounded melancholy as she continued, "Shaleheart doesn't know either."

"He doesn't?" Sedgestrike's ears perked with surprise. "I thought you two shared everything…"

"I would shoulder the Great Cypress to protect the ones I love. I could not bear the thought of wrecking your father's life with my existential dread. It's not his burden to bear."

"But it's ours," Sedgestrike murmured grudgingly. Of all cats, why did Shaleheart deserve not to know?

"Patience," Fernstream reminded her softly. "Your father's strengths are different from ours. We cannot blame him for not sharing our will just as you cannot shame a flower for not being able to grow as tall as a tree."

"What do we do now?" Sedgestrike asked, hoping to receive a light at the end of this long, dark tunnel.

"We wait," Fernstream mewed simply. "If this truly is a prophecy, we will wait for it to run its course. You're destined to fulfill it."

"But… I don't want to start a revolution," Sedgestrike protested meekly. Though she knew her destiny was laid out before her, she feared treading onward. "I don't want to be remembered as a villain or a tyrant nor do I want that for Yewbranch or Mudpaw. Is there no way to stop this?"

Fernstream shook her head. "Not all rebels are villains, Sedgestrike. Lightningstar is a-"

"I know, I know… he's remembered as a hero." Sedgestrike groaned. "I'm tired of hearing that name. I'm nothing like him." She lowered her voice to a whisper, "Besides, everyone likes Whitestar. Why would I be celebrated for getting rid of her?"

Fernstream's expression darkened. "Not all cats in MarshClan are satisfied with the way things are," she mewed cryptically.

"What do you mean?" Sedgestrike pressed.

Fernstream averted her eyes as Whitestar approached, amber eyes blazing. Sedgestrike stiffened, only to slowly relax when she saw a genuine smile on her face. "Sedgestrike," she greeted. "I suggest you rest up before this evening. The previous honor graduates will be holding a special ceremony for you tonight to welcome you to their fraternity. Ospreyflight is also aware and has retired to the warriors den." Whitestar spared a glance for Fernstream. "That is, if Fernstream allows it."

"Of course, Whitestar. What kind of mother would I be to let my daughter go without sleep?" Her mother's mew was surprisingly terse.

As Whitestar left, Fernstream got to her paws. Sedgestrike stood as well, not wanting to leave her mother just yet, but Fernstream shook her head. "You need sleep, little one," she reminded her.

Sedgestrike hesitated. "But…"

"We can speak more tomorrow," Fernstream promised. She smiled at Sedgestrike. "Thank you for talking to me. I… I really am sorry I kept this secret for so long."

Sedgestrike shrugged. "Just… don't keep any more from now on, okay?"

"Okay." Fernstream's eyes darkened. "I won't." She leaned in to rasp her tongue across Sedgestrike's cheek. "Get some rest now. You have a big night ahead of you."

"I will," Sedgestrike promised, smiling. Her smile faded as Fernstream walked away. How could she possibly sleep now? A revolution waited ahead, destined to happen, and Sedgestrike had not the slightest clue how, nor why. What was worse? She knew who would start it: her, Yewbranch, and Mudpaw.


	20. Messe Noir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional trigger warning: self-mutilation, forced self-mutilation.   
> If any of this disturbs you, I encourage you to skip to the next chapter.

EVENING arrived with a marching band composed of cricket song, shrieking frogs, and croaking toads. Mother Lake glistened with starlight and the waning crescent of the moon; its return bleached the marsh with silver lighting, forcing all of nature's colors to mimic its alabaster surface. An owl cried far, far from the marsh, likely hidden with the cypress swamp, awaiting a glimpse of prey.

Awoken by Ospreyflight's nudges, Sedgestrike found herself gazing at the high ceiling of the warriors den. All around her, MarshClan's warriors slept softly. The den was much more vast than the apprentices den, and a lot more open than the nursery. Knotweed and plumegrass surrounded her, smelling earthy and faintly sweet. The feathery tails of the plumegrass shimmied into the den, tickling Littlebrook's nose and prompting her to sneeze. She rested on the outside most ring of bedding alongside Blueflower and Molefoot. Sedgestrike found herself staring across the den at Blueflower as she slept, heart longing.

New warriors and rookie warriors were kept to the outermost ring of bedding in the warriors den, where the fortification of the roof was less solid and the outside breezes came and went more frequently. Sedgestrike may have been able to sleep beside Blueflower had she not been an honor graduate. Ospreyflight and Sedgestrike were given beds in the innermost ring of bedding alongside senior warriors and other warriors sharing their title. However, almost all their beds were empty, for MarshClan's honored warriors waited for her outside.

Sedgestrike's stomach was in knots as she left the den. What this ceremony entailed was a mystery. Even Ospreyflight seemed on edge, tiptoeing through the warriors den with her tail trembling nervously.

As Sedgestrike entered the clearing, she was greeted by a collection of cats, all their gazes were sharp under the light of the moon. Kiteclaw, Otternose, Longscar, Claytooth, Grayjaw, Zinniablossom, and Snakefang composed the gathered cats. At the front stood Spiderfang and Whitestar herself. Sedgestrike's eyes widened, for none of the gathered cats surprised her more than Batface. He was standing noticeably far from the rest. Were these all the past honor graduates? She almost shivered.

"Welcome," Whitestar greeted. "We are happy to receive you."

Spiderfang stepped forward. "Before you are all the honor graduates of MarshClan's past. We have gathered to indoctrinate you into our ranks, should you be willing, you will learn what it truly means to be an honor graduate."

"Why wouldn't we be willing?" Ospreyflight asked suspiciously.

"There is a small tribute one must make to be fully indoctrinated. However, that tribute can only be paid tonight. You will not be able to come to us again and ask for acceptance," Spiderfang explained. His tone was matter-of-fact, eyes keen. "If you're scared, you can save yourself from the trip," he offered shrewdly.

"I'm not scared," Ospreyflight rebuffed. "I just don't like to be tricked."

"Ah, but this is no trick," Spiderfang hissed. "This is a very real ceremony."

"I'm in," Sedgestrike decided. If there was more to being an honor graduate than just the title, she wanted to know what. Whatever the "tribute" was did not matter to her.

"Sedgestrike?" Ospreyflight gasped. She leaned in to whisper to her. "Doesn't this seem a little… off?"

"Of course it does," Sedgestrike murmured back. "But I'm only going to be left with questions if I don't go along with this."

Ospreyflight nodded. "I'll be going to, then," she decided, announcing it to the gathered cats.

Whitestar nodded appreciatively. "Very good. Let's be off then."

"Allow the initiates to fall in behind Whitestar," Spiderfang ordered. The gathered cats hesitated as Sedgestrike and Ospreyflight followed after Whitestar. "Do not speak to them until we reach our destination."

Whitestar led the way, quick on her feet. The world around her became a blur. She never knew how fast Whitestar was. She could even be faster than Ospreyflight. Before long, they were out of the marsh and standing on the shore together. The silence between them was perplexing. All the questions that Sedgestrike harbored in her head remained shackled so long as the warriors were sworn to silence.

The shore they stood on was the same shore that Blueflower led her to the night she laid eyes on the Starlit Springs for the first time. Sedgestrike's curiosity grew. She knew ahead they would find the Starlit Springs, but she began to wonder… would they venture beyond that? To the Lunar Cavern? Rain slowly began to fall from the sky as clouds gathered to blot out the grinning moon. The chorus of the night grew quieter as the sound of rain kissing the earth took precedence.

The dusty trail was damp as they trekked across it. Sedgestrike let the scent of fresh rain soothe her frayed nerves. Beside her, she noticed Ospreyflight's black and white pelt begin to prickle as they came upon the springs. With the rain, the usual crystalline surface appeared dark. It reflected the blackness of the storm clouds, and without light, its depths were hidden. Tonight, no fireflies danced. It was eerily quiet. Taking the path along the springs that led to the Lunar Cavern, Sedgestrike's heart began to race. The ceremony would be held before StarClan?

At the gaping mouth of the cave entrance, Whitestar paused. She turned to the gathered cats, eyes dimly gleaming through the rain; the persistent downpour caused her fur to cling to her frame, revealing bundles of lean muscle Sedgestrike never knew existed. In the distance, thunder began to rumble, hammering against the sky like Sedgestrike's heart against her chest.

"Within these hallowed walls, the ceremony will convene," Whitestar announced. "I ask that all of you remain silent as we proceed. Stay close together."

Upon entering the den, Sedgestrike was greeted with the familiar scent of stone and earth. The innards of the cave were darker than before, for what little light that could be shed in their depths was swallowed by storm clouds. She started to trek down the narrow path, but to her surprise, Whitestar veered off it, not even approaching the fork that led to the three tunnels. Instead, she slithered through the stalagmites; the sharp rock formations looked like fangs baring themselves from the earth in a threatening display. Sedgestrike hesitated before following Whitestar, taking a winding path through the jagged fangs deep, deep into the depths of the cave. Behind her, she heard the cats following close behind, weaving in and out of the stalagmites with ease. One foul jump or step, and their skin could get pricked or punctured by the rocks. Sedgestrike treaded carefully.

A cool, ominous breeze hissed from the depths of the cave. The stalagmites were growing more numerous, and above, stalactites were reaching lower and lower, almost connecting with their lower counterparts. Sedgestrike felt like she was venturing into a beast's jaws as she went further. Floatstone coated the sides of the spikes like reddened saliva. Unease grew within her.

Whitestar stopped before a very narrow, but tall, opening in the wall. It was a crag in the rockface that split widely, forming what appeared to be a passage. Sedgestrike swallowed nervously.

"This is it," Whitestar whispered.

Outside, Sedgestrike could hear thunder roar. It grew stronger now that they were in the belly of the cave, shaking it. Water leaked from the roof, making eerie dripping noises that reverberated throughout.

"Follow me," Whitestar hissed. She disappeared into the crag, and Sedgestrike was forced to follow. She had come too far to turn back now.

The passage was long and narrow, with either side occasionally brushing against Sedgestrike's fur. The sound of steps echoing from behind her encouraged Sedgestrike to walk faster, for they grew more rapid and fervent as time dragged on. She did not like the echoing noise of several cats following her. For some reason, the steps sounded too numerous to belong to the small group of cats that gathered to welcome her back in camp. When Sedgestrike misstepped, she fell into what should have been a wall, only to nearly fall to the ground. Wasn't this tunnel supposed to be narrow? Flicking her tail to either side, her blood ran cold. The passage was not narrow at all. What… or who… was brushing against her this whole time?

Sedgestrike wanted to call out to Ospreyflight, but she knew if she did she would be ejected from the initiation. She felt fear saturate her pelt, and she contemplated leaving. Before her courage could run out, the passage opened to a wide cave with a narrow path that led to a smooth center. All around the smooth center were stalagmites and stalactites, a silent, grinning audience. Above, the roof was carved out from existence, unveiling the massive branches of several cypress trees that clustered together. The dense canopy allowed a few rain drops to trickle through; they dripped from drooping branches and sodden moss to splatter into the cave, creating puddles that looked like ink blots.

Whitestar sat in the heart of the cave, and behind her was a vast, clear wall, void of floatstone or rock formations to distort it. It looked like a canvas. Sedgestrike thought she saw markings on its flat face, but she could not decipher them in the darkness.

The other cats filed in quietly, sitting behind Sedgestrike, blocking the exit. She was stuck between Whitestar and the gathered cats. Trapped. Where was Ospreyflight?

Before Sedgestrike could speak, Whitestar asked, "Where did the other go?"

Kiteclaw spoke first. "She was unable to make it through the passageway." Her voice was solemn, colored with shame. "Her fear was too great."

"Very well," Whitestar growled. "We will continue without her."

"W-wait!" Sedgestrike protested. "She's just as much of an honor graduate as I am. We—we can't do this without her."

"Oh, but we must," Spiderfang corrected. "She couldn't even make it through the passageway. If she truly was a worthy candidate, she would've made it here." His amber eyes glinted. "You will be our only initiate tonight."

"Sedgestrike," Whitestar began calmly. "You are about to take part in an indoctrination that harkens back to the beginning of MarshClan."

Sedgestrike watched her leader speak. Her careful enunciation and practiced pose made the initiation seem more like a ritual than a tradition.

"Behind you are cats that share your skill and excellence. If you choose to become one of us, you will embark on a journey that seals your fate for success." Whitestar's promise was laced with encouragement. The way she spoke, Sedgestrike felt like her leader could say she wielded the stars in her paws and it would be true.

"And… if I refuse?" Sedgestrike dared to wonder.

Whitestar's expression hardened. "Then you are to leave and return to camp, and you are never to speak of our meeting today, or else face the consequences."

The threat littered in her words convinced Sedgestrike not to turn back. She did not want the burden of failure sitting on her shoulders. She wanted to know… the truth. "Very well," she murmured cordially but hesitantly. "I'll… accept."

"Perfect," Whitestar hissed. Her leader stood, stalking to sit beside Sedgestrike. A small, jagged stalagmite was revealed a few tail-lengths behind her. Its sharp tip was coated with a rusty red color. Old blood. "Welcome to Father's Fang," she murmured.

"Father's Fang?" Sedgestrike echoed in awe. The small stalagmite sitting before them harbored an intense, mysterious aura. She could feel power emanating off its surface, but also… something more sinister.

"Our indoctrination is simple," Whitestar whispered. Her fur almost brushed against Sedgestrike's from where she sat. Their closeness made her shiver. "You must slash your palms across Father's Fang. This intimate bond will bind you with all those that have come before you, and all those that will come in the future." Her lips were pressed against Sedgestrike's ear now. Whitestar's voice was no longer cold and calculating, but soft and sultry. "You will have the power of many, the knowledge of all."

Sedgestrike blinked. She felt like she was in a daze. Bringing her paw up to stare at her palm, she frowned. "But… why? What is Father's Fang? Why would it give me power?"

Whitestar leaned away, gazing at the stalagmite. "It is said the Darkstar, son of Marshstar, found this hallowed temple as a warrior under the guidance of Nightshade, the first medicine cat. She received an omen that he was the true leader, not his sister, within these very walls." Her leader took a moment to gaze around the cave, as if she would find their ancestors still here.

In her mind's eye, she could see it. Darkfeather, stalking through the shadows, following Nightshade along the same path that she just walked on. Sedgestrike shivered. Cloaked in the night, their eyes glowed and shone with wonder as they entered the cave that harbored the stalagmite for the first time.

"Darkstar discovered the secrets to success. A power eternal. Knowledge unlimited." Her gaze flickered to Sedgestrike, eyes ablaze with wonder. "He is the Father. This is his Fang."

Spiderfang hissed. "Oh, come on with it." He hovered behind them, and Sedgestrike could feel his hot breath against the back of her neck. "Will she do it or not?"

"Silence, cur!" Whitestar spat. She regained her composure, sighing. "One knows we mustn't rush these things…"

Sedgestrike was shaking as she felt all the eyes in the cave fall on her. She swallowed. Knowledge… unlimited. Perhaps this was the key? If she chose to join Whitestar and the others, maybe then she would know the truth of the prophecy? Rising to her paws, she nodded to her leader. "I'm ready."

Whitestar smiled, purring. "Perfect."

Outside, lightning crackled, shedding a flash of light, white hot, into the cave. The shadows of the gnarled branches above were cast onto the walls, looking like gnarled claws begging to dig into the cats within. Sedgestrike closed the distance between her and Father's Fang. Her breathing was shaking. Glancing back, she caught Batface's gaze, and in his eyes she saw fear. Sedgestrike hesitated.

"Go on!" Spiderfang urged.

"Power eternal. Knowledge unlimited. Father's Fang." The gathered cats began to chant, and their voices were exaggerated by the booming thunder outside. "Power eternal! Knowledge unlimited! Father's Fang!"

Squeezing her eyes shut, Sedgestrike lowered her first palm onto Father's Fang, digging her calloused skin into the sharp edge, she drug her paw pad across, slicing it. The pain stung, but as her blood trickled down the stone spire, the pain melted and she felt a shock of energy charge through her arm. Yanking her paw away, she panted heavily. The chanting had stopped, but thunder continued to boom. Glancing around her, she saw that her Clanmates were gone. Sedgestrike's heart was beating so fast, she could no longer feel it.

Lightning crackled. Once light was shed in the cave, Sedgestrike noticed eyes glinting before her, several of them. Though the light remained for only a heartbeat, Sedgestrike saw the faces of cats she did not recognize. They smelled of MarshClan… and death. Their eyes held pupils so large they almost consumed the colored irises, and their faces were contorted with sinister grins.

"Wait…" Sedgestrike mewed shakily. "Wait! This isn't what I wanted!" Her cries fell on deaf ears, for the cats before her vanished. She was alone again.

Her other arm, trembling, rose. Lightning crackled again. Wind howled and whistled through the tree branches above, buffeting her fur and causing leaves to swirl around her. Though Sedgestrike fought to move her other, uncut, palm away from Father's Fang, it continued to move against her will. "Wait!"

Before she could resist any more, her palm dragged across the stalagmite, shedding her blood onto the stone. Lightning crashed again, unveiling a collection of paws wrapped around Sedgestrike's arm, forcing her to move it. Sedgestrike hissed, yanking it away. Looking up from her bleeding palm, she was face to face with a legion of cats too vast to stand in a cave so small, but they stood nonetheless, stretching far beyond her realm of sight. Wisps of fog curled against their shadowy frames, and their eyes glowed to simmer through the haze like embers in smoke.

"Welcome to the Order," they growled in unison, voices thundering louder than thunder itself. "You are a Destined Paragon."

Sedgestrike wailed, backing away. The faces began to fade, and they were replaced by the vacant stone wall. Wind continued to rustle through the trees, but the thunder was more distant. Sedgestrike was breathing heavily, but before she could recover, she was surrounded by her Clanmates.

"Congratulations!" Zinniablossom purred. The tortoiseshell stood before her with a smile. "You took that way better than I did."

"Yeah, not bad, Sedgestrike," Grayjaw praised, his chuckle distorted by his protruding jaw. "Though you did look like you were about to puke!" His guffaw caused her whiskers to ruffle against his breath. Sedgestrike grimaced.

"Did you see anything cool?" Snakefang hissed eagerly. "I just got all jittery…"

"I—I—" Sedgestrike didn't know what to say at this point.

"Alright, stop crowding her," Batface warned, growling. As the crowd petered off to their own cliques, her old mentor hesitated before her. "You did well," he rumbled in passing before sitting further off, away from her.

Feeling alone and frightened, Sedgestrike curled her bushy tail around her paws, shivering. The other cats remained in their own little groups, muttering and gossiping—likely about her. Sedgestrike wanted nothing more than to go home. She started as Whitestar spoke again.

"As the supreme of the Order," Whitestar mewed calmly. "I would like to welcome our newest member: Sedgestrike."

A chorus of "welcomes" arose from the cats.

"Sedgestrike." Whitestar's voice was uncharacteristically gentle. The sultry lilt to her tone was hypnotic, and Sedgestrike felt helpless under her icy gaze. "You displayed greatness from an early age. As a blossoming warrior, you were given an opportunity to become even greater… and you took it. For that, we all applaude you."

Whitestar approached her, elegant. Though her expression was cold, the intoxicating sound of her voice reeled Sedgestrike in like a siren. It seemed all the cats within Father's Fang were hanging on every last word she uttered, holding their breath as they longed for the sound of it.

She rose her tail, flicking it to gesture around them. "We are members of the Order of the Destined Paragons, a legion of MarshClan's best and brightest warriors." She smiled. "It is our duty to make MarshClan a better place."

Sedgestrike frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I'm glad you asked!" Spiderfang gushed. Upon receiving a chilling glare from Whitestar, he chuckled and bowed his head. "I forget myself… May I, Whitestar?"

Sedgestrike wrinkled her nose at the exchange. The only thing that could make this evening worse was getting a spiel from Spiderfang. Something about her deputy seemed… off.

After Whitestar nodded her approval, Spiderfang took the floor. The small black tom's fangs glinted as he smiled. "The Order, by which I mean, us, began many moons ago, as you know, with Darkstar." He nodded eagerly. "Overtime, more and more paragons were blessed with leadership—thus allowing the Order to make more and more change for the better!"

"What would you need to change?" Sedgestrike wondered, growing uneasy.

"Everything!" Spiderfang chuckled. "MarshClan has been steeped in the past for too long. Whitestar and I, we imagine a better Clan—a perfect Clan. One where everyone follows the leader's law, no matter what. A perfect, law-abiding society that seamlessly exists without any kinks or qualms."

Sedgestrike snorted. "That sounds impossible." She glanced around at the paragons with distaste. "There's no such thing as a perfect society! There are too many different ideas and dreams. How could we all think the same way?"

Silence engulfed the cats, and it was Whitestar that broke it. "The Code," she whispered.

"The Warrior Code?" Sedgestrike clarified, her voice a trembling whisper.

Whitestar nodded. "Yes." She stepped closer to Sedgestrike, so that her narrow shadow was cast across her face. "Blazingstar, the seventh leader of MarshClan, established the Code to bring order all those moons ago. For awhile, it worked. His successor, Fadingstar upheld his beliefs. They were both paragons you see…" Whitestar's eyes were half-shut as she recounted MarshClan's past. She was calm but cold, her usual self, and Sedgestrike wanted to shrink away from her icy aura. The sound of Whitestar's claws grating the stone caused her to shiver. "But there is always an ebb and a flow to our power. Smallstar," she growled the leader's name as if uttering caused bile to rise in her throat. "She was not one of us. She did not rule with a heavy claw nor a clear mind. Her daft medicine cat, Cloudwatcher, nearly cost us our reign." Whitestar relaxed, smiling euphorically. "But thankfully, Twistedshadow restored our rightful claim to leadership. It is a shame Lightningstar did not have a long rule, but thankfully Murkstar followed in his pawsteps…"

Whitestar's rambling was pushing Sedgestrike closer to the edge. All this time, her Clan was at war with itself? She never knew of a struggle for power within. The history taught by the elders mentioned nothing of the Order nor its paragons. She did not even know Father's Fang existed until now!

"This is madness…" Sedgestrike growled. "Why would StarClan put the wrong leaders in charge? Why would they send conflicting omens?" She shook her head, feeling helpless. Nothing made sense anymore. For almost all of MarshClan's existance, the paragons worked in the shadows. But why? For what?

"The heavens are vast," Whitestar murmured. "You think StarClan is the only word?"

"Well, yes!" Sedgestrike sputtered. "Of course."

Whitestar shook her head, smiling. "StarClan abides a logic different from ours. You see, our power comes from beyond the stars: the Place of Eternal Night. A broad expanse of blackness that spans perpetually! Our ancestors in the Place of Eternal Night exist on a plane that far exceeds StarClan."

"Place of Eternal Night…" Sedgestrike glanced at the other paragons. She received encouraging nods and eager smiles. They all were convinced. But why was she so skeptical? What made them so ready to accept this… other theism? "I… I still don't understand," Sedgestrike whined, shaking her head. "StarClan are the ones we pray to and thank for everything. You, none of you ever mentioned this 'Place of Eternal Night!'"

Longscar piped up from the cluster of paragons. "She is too wrapped up in what was, not what is meant to be!" he spat. "We should exclude her now, before she begins to doubt the floor on which she stands!"

"Enough, Longscar," Whitestar hissed. Her gaze flickered back to Sedgestrike. "The Order of the Destined Paragons must exist in secrecy, for only the chosen ones exist within it. Do you think our simple comrades back in camp would listen to us or trust us if they thought we were different from them? Better than them?" Whitestar sighed, resigned. "We must be silent in our pursuit of a new era. Only cats like us have the capacity to know the truth."

Cats like them… Sedgestrike glanced at the crowd of paragons once more. There was only one cat in the cluster she aspired to be like: Batface. Her old mentor refused to meet her gaze, staring down at his paws. Could it be… did her prophecy come from the Place of Eternal Night?

"Does Redleaf-"

Sedgestrike was unable to finish her question, for Whitestar smiled and perked up. "Do not fret, paragon, he too serves the Eternal Night."

Shuffling her paws, Sedgestrike grew keen on Whitestar's honesty. Though the truth was frightening and… bizarre… Sedgestrike knew she was closer now more than ever to discovering the answer to her questions of the prophecy.

"So… are you starting like… a revolution or something?" Sedgestrike asked coyly. She simultaneously desired and feared the answer.

Whitestar's expression was thoughtful, while the gathered paragons muttering eagerly amongst themselves. Clearly, the idea of revolution excited them. It only nauseated Sedgestrike.

"You could say that, yes," Whitestar purred. "I knew you would come around." Her smile curled like her tail; she was pleased. "If you imagine the night sky, stars and moon and all, what is it composed most of?"

"Uhm… the… darkness?" Sedgestrike guessed. She realized Whitestar may still not know of the prophecy. If she did, she would have certainly mentioned it in her response. Sedgestrike's eyes narrowed. Why was Redleaf keeping it a secret?

Whitestar purred louder. "Precisely. You see, the battle is already won. The Eternal Night rules the heavens. We just have to initiate Their will, and you, young paragon, will help us do that."

"I-I will?" Sedgestrike squeaked, uneasy.

"The trials are only the beginning," Whitestar hissed excitedly. "Soon, we will usher in the dawn of a new era. We will rise above the stars! And anyone that gets in our way will face the wrath of a night eternal."

Sedgestrike's blood ran cold. Rise? Revolution? Her heart began to race. The same words were in the prophecy… The birth of three who were not meant to be will give rise to revolution. She felt herself verge on the brink of panic. This was not the revolution she wanted to be a part of. This could not be her destiny! Shaking, Sedgestrike brought one of her front paws up, staring at the palm. The deep gash clotted over, a dull red, marking her for a path she no longer wished to take.

StarClan, what have I done? Sedgestrike squeezed her eyes shut.

When she opened them, she was alone in the cave again. Or at least, she thought she was alone. All around her, pairs of eyes glinted in the shadows, but they were not the eyes of the cats she knew from MarshClan. Instead, they belonged to cats she did not know. They were smiling those same, sinister smiles, whispering eagerly between sharp teeth.

"No, no, no!" Sedgestrike shook her head, desperately wanting the vision to fade. When she opened her eyes again, Whitestar was staring at her, perplexed. Sedgestrike swallowed hard, sighing. She had to keep it together. Who knows what they would do to her if they discovered her refusal of their ideas…

"Sedgestrike?" Whitestar pressed with concern.

The trials… the visions of Vinestripe and countless bodies in the river… Scorchface… Minnowtail... All those cats… were they just victims of the Order? Or criminals of justice? Sedgestrike shook her head again, prompting Whitestar to press her nose to Sedgestrike's head. Freezing, she slowly rolled her eyes up to stare at her leader. Her amber eyes stared back, concerned, but curious. Sedgestrike's paws felt cold. She was walking on thin ice.

"I just… keep seeing faces," Sedgestrike admitted.

Whitestar's ears pricked. "The faces of our ancestors residing in the Place of Eternal Night, no doubt," she explained comfortingly. "Do not fear Them. They are appearing to you in order to help you. They wish to guide you to greatness, just like they did for me, and the leader before me."

Sedgestrike groaned internally. Pikestar was one of them too? She felt her insides churn with unease. Did… StarClan really lose the battle? They couldn't have… Sedgestrike felt Their presence on the night before. StarClan called her to the Lunar Cavern. They were still there. Hope trickled into Sedgestrike's heart. Maybe she could still go to Them?

Smiling, she regarded Whitestar's concerned visage with a firm nod. "Then I will do as you have done, Whitestar," she promised. "I will be the best paragon I can be."

"Wonderful." Whitestar was purring again. "I have a feeling our fight is at its end. All we need to do is find the last of the dissenters in MarshClan and deal with them accordingly."

"And how will we do that?" Sedgestrike asked warily.

"Oh, in due time, you will know," Whitestar assured her. "You may be one of us, young paragon, but some tasks are best left to only the most loyal in our ranks. If you prove yourself, more will come."

"I'll do my best, Whitestar." Sedgestrike bowed her head, though her heart was broiling in turmoil. Was this her destiny, her siblings' destiny? Not to riot against Whitestar, not to destroy MarshClan, but born to revolt against StarClan?


	21. Fire and Ice

HEAVY paws, heavier heart, Sedgestrike collapsed into her bedding with the weight of the heavens on her shoulders. The journey back to MarshClan was a blur, a smudge in her head; her mind's eye was smeared with an inky black blot, blinding her of what occurred between Father's Fang and the comfort of her nest. Where did her spirit lie? She felt like the roots that grounded her soul to the earth were being savagely dug up by a boar's tusk, gouging into her, churning her from the soil to mercilessly expose her. She rolled over in her nest, pressing close to Ospreyflight.

"Are you awake?" she whispered to her.

Ospreyflight rolled to her side to face Sedgestrike, eyes wide open. She did not look fatigued at all. If anything, she looked scared, like she was frozen in a living nightmare. Upon gazing into her friend's yellow eyes, she noticed her reflection in her pupils. Her expression mirrored Ospreyflight's. They were both terrified.

"I haven't been able to sleep," Ospreyflight mewed. "I can't get that horrible place out of my head."

The ache in Sedgestrike's paws reminded her of how real "that horrible place" was. Though she felt betrayed by her friend in Father's Fang for abandoning her, she was thankful now that she did not have to endure the sights Sedgestrike did. She was thankful her friend did not share the same scars on her palms.

"Why did you leave?" Sedgestrike asked, voice hoarse. Despite her gratitude for Ospreyflight's exemption from the initiation, she had to know.

"I…" Ospreyflight blinked rapidly, seemingly struggle to recollect, or comprehend, what occured in the caves. "I saw him."

"Who?"

"I saw… Hemlockstar." Ospreyflight laughed softly, sounding tired. "It's impossible isn't it? He's supposed to be dead." Her brows furrowed. "But I know it was him."

"He came to you in the passageway?" Sedgestrike presumed. That was the last place Ospreyflight was seen.

She nodded. "He was… walking beside me. He looked, smelled, sounded so-so real!" The disbelief in her voice made it squeak, and they both flattened her ears when Snakefang stirred near them.

They were surrounded by the cats that escorted them to Father's Fang. The heart of the warriors den, where it was warmest and safest, was consumed by the paragons Sedgestrike now fraternized with. She shuddered, knowing they needed to keep quiet.

"He came to you," Sedgestrike realized, breathless. "He must be one of the paragons."

"The what?" Ospreyflight wrinkled her nose in confusion.

"Paragons… that's…" Sedgestrike leaned in, softening her voice. "That's what we are, what you would've been. It's like… a group of cats in our Clan that believe in something besides StarClan."

Ospreyflight's features darkened with fear. "Like what?"

"They call it… the Place of Eternal Night." Sedgestrike shivered at the mention of it. Something seemed off about the mere existence of such a place.

"That makes sense," Ospreyflight growled gently. "There's no way a cat like Hemlockstar could get into StarClan."

"What did he say to you anyway?" Sedgestrike asked.

Ospreyflight's eyes widened. Sedgestrike noticed she was trembling softly. She had never seen her friend so frightened. "He… thanked me," Ospreyflight murmured, perturbed. "He thanked me for making sure his legacy was remembered."

"His legacy?" Sedgestrike's eyes widened when the explanation dawned on her. "You mean… when you presented your knowledge of him during the test? When you recounted all those horrible things he did?"

Ospreyflight nodded. "His spirit felt so… real. It's like he was one of us." She was shaking her head in incredulousness. "Sedgestrike," she murmured warily, "if Hemlockstar is a paragon and a resident in the Place of Eternal Night… I do not think that is a place where good cats go."

"What are you saying?" Sedgestrike muttered cautiously. "Do you think they're all bad?"

"I-I don't know." Ospreyflight frowned. There was a forlorn twinkle in her eye, and Sedgestrike pressed her nose to her cheek in comfort. "Sedgestrike, my mother is a paragon. You're a paragon. And Batface. You guys, you guys aren't bad."

"Don't worry. I'll… I'll figure out what's going on."

"How?"

Sedgestrike stared into Ospreyflight's eyes intently. "I just have to get them to trust me."

Her friend nodded, pressing closer. Sedgestrike grunted in surprise, moving to wrap her paw around Ospreyflight and hold her close. She was not used to Ospreyflight wanting to be this close to her. Usually, her friend enjoyed her personal space. She must be really upset, Sedgestrike realized.

As they pressed close, Sedgestrike found sleep. Shutting her eyes, she enjoyed Ospreyflight's warmth, hoping it would shield her from a rest riddled in terror.

It did not.

When she opened her eyes, she stood in a swamp. The water that collected at the roots and knees of the cypress trees was murky, almost black, and cold to the touch. Frost gathered at the nooks and crannies of the trees surrounding her, twinkling silently, almost menacingly, in the darkness. Where spongy, green moss should have been along the trunks and roots of trees, ice grew. It held an eerie blue sheen in the night like a raven's feather.

Billows of frost escaped Sedgestrike's fangs as she breathed. The air tasted cold. There was no hint of life in the air, not the sweetness of prey nor the bitterness of bog. Even during the moons of rivernarrow, MarshClan never got this cold. Her thick fur did little to protect her against the occasional chilling gust that howled through the cypress swamp, causing their branches to creak and wail. The canopy of intertwined limbs scratched against one another as they rustled, making the low-hanging tangles of moss shiver.

"Where am I?" she wondered.

It felt so… empty here. Yet, Sedgestrike could not shake the feeling of being watched.

"You're home," a voice rumbled from behind.

Sedgestrike turned to see a cluster of bromeliad. The bushes held bright red blossoms at their centers, which unfurled vibrantly in the dark. From the depths, a spotted brown tabby emerged. His glowing yellow eyes found Sedgestrike's, and a knowing smile grew on his muzzle.

"Hello, Sedgestrike," the tom mewed.

"Who are you?" she hissed, fur bristling mistrustfully.

The temperature around her seemed to drop as the tomcat approached. Once he set foot onto the shallow water, he did not step into it, but on it. Sedgestrike's eyes widened when she saw him walk on the surface effortlessly, while she remained with her legs partially submerged.

"I am Pikestar." His introduction was colored with pride.

Whitestar's predecessor was far less intimidating than she was. He did not share the frosty glint in her eyes nor the ice in his words. Instead, he seemed… rather normal, but that only made Sedgestrike more suspicious. She remembered Scorchface, and how she accused Whitestar of being more diabolical than Pikestar. Her eyes narrowed. There had to be some menace behind those yellow eyes if there was even to be a comparison between the two.

"What do you want?" Sedgestrike growled.

Pikestar stepped closer, brow quirked. There was an odd crackling noise sounding from the bottom of his paws. Sedgestrike drew her eyes to the sound, seeing a thin sheet of ice forming wherever the leader stepped. She unsheathed her claws, unsure of how to react to the magic.

"To welcome you," Pikestar mewed cryptically. He smiled. "You are our newest paragon after all; everyone in the Order deserves to be recognized. I am here to guide you, you see."

"I don't need your guidance," Sedgestrike rebuked, raising her chin in defiance. Whatever the Place of Eternal Night was a part of, she only needed to respect their desires on the surface. Anything deeper than that, she promptly turned her nose up at.

"Yes you do," Pikestar corrected, chuckling softly. He regarded her as if she were a rebellious kit. "You may be a paragon, but you cannot access the proper knowledge and power without me."

"I don't want it."

A flicker of annoyance shone on Pikestar's once confident visage. "Stubborn, are we?" He chuckled again. Sedgestrike sensed his patience waning. However, when an impish glint appeared in his gaze, she stiffened. He was not done. "I suppose you do not want to know more about the prophecy then?"

"You know about the prophecy?" Sedgestrike hissed. There it was, the bait. Sedgestrike felt like a dull, hungry fish as he dangled a worm before her and she haplessly puckered at the morsel. I'm so pathetic…

"Of course I do," Pikestar mewed arrogantly, smiling down on her. "It came from Us."

"The prophecy… it's from the Place of Eternal Night?!" Sedgestrike hissed in disbelief.

Pikestar nodded. "StarClan," he spat the word like an insult. "They aren't the only ones that can conjure the secrets of the future. We too can see what lies beyond: a mass of possibilities all intertwined like a spider's web; the threads of time may seem thin and flimsy, but they are limitless." His words hissed through his fangs. "Don't be so ignorant and believe that only StarClan can know the best path to take. Our future is much, much brighter."

Sedgestrike was rendered speechless, standing before Pikestar like prey being held at bay.

"You are meant to serve Us," Pikestar explained firmly. "There is no question about that."

"Serve the Place of Eternal Night, you mean?" Sedgestrike growled. She refused to believe she was made to serve anyone but StarClan.

Pikestar nodded once. "And your siblings are meant to serve you."

Sedgestrike froze. That did not sound right. "Serve me?"

"You're the oldest, the strongest, you are born the true paragon. Your siblings… they are just pawns, but they too have abilities to help you succeed."

"My siblings aren't pawns!" Sedgestrike snapped. "They are family. I will not use them like servants for whatever agenda you have in store for me."

Backing away, Sedgestrike felt like the trees were closing in. The curled around her like gnarled claws, and Pikestar was keeping pace with her effortlessly. When Sedgestrike turned to run, the water froze, trapping her instantly. Pikestar padded on the ice haughtily, staring down at Sedgestrike and clicking his tongue.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk… thinking you can outrun me." Pikestar smirked. "You are a fool if you think you can escape Us now." His chuckle was dark as the shadows surrounding them. "You marked yourself with Father's Fang. You joined the Order. You belong to the Place of Eternal Night."

Sedgestrike struggled in the ice in vain. Her legs were frozen. "No!" she protested.

"Oh, and We do apologize for disturbing you about the whole 'not meant to be' part in the prophecy… It was just a jab at StarClan." He snickered and shrugged thoughtlessly. "We like to poke fun at Their arcane rule about medicine cats not being able to have kits and such. Silly creatures. Your mother would've made a fine medicine cat, and a finer servant to Us. But don't worry, We will take care of some of those fussy traditions once we rid of StarClan for good."

Sedgestrike spat at Pikestar. "Don't speak about my mother, you-you vile waste of flesh. And don't you dare slander StarClan!"

"Ooh, fiery." Pikestar smirked. "I like that. You'll do good for Us." He stalked passed Sedgestrike, flicking her nose with his tail tip. "I will be visiting often. I am very eager to start working together, you see."

His laughter rung in her ears even after she woke up again. Sedgestrike sat up in her nest, angry and hurt and hopeless. Pikestar was nowhere near as intimidating as Whitestar, but he was by far way more annoying. Gazing down at her paw, she brought one up to stare at her palm. Sure enough, diagonally across the pad, was the faintest ridge of a scar. Sighing, Sedgestrike wrestled with the notion of being connected to the Place of Eternal Night… forever. She felt nothing but rage for the paragons. They had to know the allegiance they bolstered, and yet they gladly let Sedgestrike blindly bound into their claws. She felt tricked. Used.

The pale glow of dawn filtered through the plumegrass, saving Sedgestrike from her self-loathing with its reassuring warmth. Rising to her paws, she left Ospreyflight and the rest of the warriors to greet the rising sun. Birds twittered along the branches of the surrounding trees, flitting across camp as they rustled and enjoyed their flirting fancies. The air was warm and sweet with the emergence of blossoming flowers and fresh life. The time of riverswell was at its most endearing stage: renewal, when flora bloomed and new life was born. The warmth of the morning was a comfortable juxtaposition to her chilling dream.

Inhaling deeply, she meandered over to the fresh-kill pile which sat beside the marigold that composed the medicine den. Plucking herself a sparrow, she decided she needed to force herself to eat something.

"Good morning."

Sedgestrike turned to a familiar, comforting purr, seeing Blueflower. "Hello," she greeted softly, smiling.

The warrior rested beside her, and her long, blue-gray fur brushed against her own. Together, they gazed beyond the Fallen Cypress to the twinkling surface of Mother Lake. The massive body of water held the sunshine in its rippling face, gleaming peacefully.

"It's a beautiful morning," Blueflower murmured.

Sedgestrike nodded, taking a bite of her sparrow. She enjoyed the comfortable silence between them. Before, it would rattle Sedgestrike senseless to be so close to the warrior and have nothing to say. Now, she was solaced by their unspoken connection. It seemed time only aged their relationship for the better. Sedgestrike carefully nudged the sparrow towards Blueflower, offering.

"Thank you." She carefully took a bite out of the fresh-kill, pausing to stare at Sedgestrike's paw.

Sedgestrike winced and pulled her paw away, tucking it by her chest.

"What happened?" Blueflower asked. "That's a curious mark…"

"Uhm… nothing. I just scraped on something during my test."

"It looked fresh," Blueflower countered. Her tone was full of concern, but most noticeably, suspicion.

Sedgestrike shrugged. "It's just healing slowly." She hated lying to Blueflower. She felt her secret drive a wedge between them, creating a divide that was as unsettling as it was unwanted. But how could she tell Blueflower the truth? Where would she begin? Her golden eyes found her white paws. They were near the half-eaten sparrow, barely touching its mangled feathers. Sedgestrike suddenly wasn't so hungry anymore.

"I can tell you're hiding something from me," Blueflower mewed softly, eyes downcast. "If you want to talk, I'm here, but I won't force you to say anything if you don't want to."

Sedgestrike stole a glance at her, noting how she appeared silently resigned. Though Sedgestrike felt a pang of guilt, she took advantage of Blueflower's graciousness. She would allow the secret to remain between them, for now. Maybe once Sedgestrike knew more, she would say something. She silently prayed the secret would not fester.

A warm breeze filtered through camp, carrying the faint scent of smoke. Sedgestrike's eyes flitted up to gaze in the direction the breeze came from. In the distance, beyond Mother Lake, she saw a billow of black emerging from the earth. Fire.

Spiderfang was rushing across the clearing to Sedgestrike now, and the warrior stiffened when the deputy glanced between her and Blueflower in confusion. Was there something wrong about their closeness? "Sedgestrike," he greeted, panting. "You will be leading the dawn patrol. Rally your warriors with haste; that fire does not look like its close to us, but we need to know if it's coming our way."

Rising to her paws, Sedgestrike was dumbfounded but pleased by the task. Leading a patrol was a great honor. For her to be tasked as a new warrior was flattering. Her spirits fell, however, when she realized it was because of their mutual membership… This must be a "perk" for being a paragon, she realized.

"Right," Sedgestrike agreed, nodding to her deputy. When the small black tom retreated to the Fallen Cypress, she knew he would be organizing a hunting party next. She turned to Blueflower questioningly, and the warrior nodded.

With Blueflower on her patrol, she only needed two more to accompany her before they set out. Hurrying to the warriors den, she peeked in to see Ospreyflight grooming herself. "Hey, want to come on the dawn patrol?" she asked.

"I've already been assigned to a hunting party," Ospreyflight mewed apologetically.

"We'll go!" Sedgestrike groaned internally when she heard Snakefang perk up from his nest. The lanky brown tabby stood and stretched with a grin. "I'll bring Pebblepaw along too."

From beside him, Zinniablossom rose, yawning. "Thanks for volunteering for me," she grumbled sardonically. "To think, I could've actually slept in for once."

"Bah! Who needs sleep? We're warriors! We survive on the blood of our enemies and the spirit of our ancestors!"

Sedgestrike rolled her eyes and flashed a glare at Ospreyflight, catching her snickering. "I'll get you back for this," she muttered to her friend playfully.

Ospreyflight shrugged and mouthed the words, "I'm so scared."

Leading her troop of warriors out of the den, she made her way to Blueflower where she waited alongside the wall of sawgrass. "I'm sorry," she mewed to her.

The warrior was confused, tilting her head. "About what?"

"The patrol we're about to be on," Sedgestrike grumbled.

Before long, Zinniablossom came trotting up, shooting a sharp glare at Blueflower. "Blueflower," she greeted stiffly.

"Zinniablossom," Blueflower returned Zinniablossom's curt tone. When Zinniablossom paused to give her tortoiseshell fur a quick groom, Blueflower nodded with understanding to Sedgestrike, and they both giggled softly.

Once Snakefang arrived with Pebblepaw, the patrol was complete. The first swathes of orange colored the sky as the sun began to rise, but the pastel glow was muddled by plumes of gray. Somewhere, the earth was set aflame, but Sedgestrike did not fear the fire. She knew all too well the real danger was ice.


	22. No Smoke Without Fire

THROUGH the marsh, Sedgestrike led her patrol in silence. Her paw with the torn claw was still sore from her test two days prior, but she refused to slow down; this was her first time leading anything, and she wanted to do well despite her only being graced with the task because of her title as “paragon.” As they waded through the murky water, she began to wonder just how many of the patrols were led by members of the Order… As her mind mulled over memories, she realized with shock that just about every patrol or party was led by a paragon. To think, Whitestar’s trusted warriors were more than just favored, they colluded together, and now Sedgestrike was one of them… 

“This fire,” Snakefang mewed, “will it harm us?”

“That’s what we’ve been tasked to find out,” Sedgestrike rumbled as she set foot on the shore. She could see the field of palmettos from where she stood, knowing that beyond them was the pinewoods that would take them to the river border. She wanted to start on the northernmost part of the border and do a full sweep. 

“Shouldn’t you have let us know our primary tasking before we set off on the patrol?” Zinniablossom pointed out condescendingly. 

Sedgestrike grimaced. “Perhaps, but you were taking to long to groom yourself for me to get a word in,” she quipped. 

Zinniablossom hissed in response, and Blueflower giggled. The tortoiseshell turned on her with a curled lip. “Don’t laugh at me, flunkey.” 

“Hey,” Sedgestrike snapped, bristling. “We’re all warriors here. What gives you the right to call her such things?” 

Zinniablossom quirked a brow, confused. “Don’t act like you don’t know.” 

Sedgestrike lifted her chin, knowing exactly what Zinniablossom was referring to, but refusing to believe in it. 

Blueflower sighed in frustration. “How long are you going to parade around me for being an honor graduate?” She rolled her eyes. “It’s just a title.” 

Snakefang growled. “So you think.” 

“Enough!” Sedgestrike snapped. She was growing tired of the childish arguing within her patrol. If this was what it meant to lead, she had her fill of it. “Let’s keep moving before this fire gets out of control.” 

Pebblepaw was quiet during the exchange, but Sedgestrike noticed his small frame trembling as their words got more heated. She was surprised to see the apprentice looking so timorous still. She thought he would’ve grown out of his skittishness after a moon of tough training. Turning her back on the patrol, she headed for the border. 

Crashing through the palmetto field, the sandy earth grew more moist and rich as they came upon the pinewoods. Needles scattered at their paws, flying up to cling to their fur in their wake. The rich scent of evergreens was rivalled by the strengthening scent of smoke and charred wood. Sedgestrike’s heart twinged with concern when she noticed a faint haze wafting through the trees as they met Oakbridge and the Training Gully below. Sedgestrike squinted against the sting of smoke, but pressed on. It was not thick enough or strong enough for the fire to be close; the wind likely carried the haze this way. 

As the rush of the river reached her ears, Sedgestrike paused, panting softly. The river was larger now, swollen by the rains, and it rushed through the territory fiercely, overtaking the boulders and fallen trees that used to impede its flow. Sedgestrike watched its merciless strength in awe, feeling humbled by its presence. Now this was a power eternal… 

Beyond the gushing river, Sedgestrike gazed through the trees, she could not see fire, but the smoke beyond the river was much darker and thicker. The Land of the Fallen was consumed by flames. 

“Well, it’s not coming our way,” Zinniablossom observed from behind her. 

Sedgestrike nodded, but was distracted by the horror on Blueflower’s face. The warrior’s pretty blue eyes were stained with dread as they beheld the destruction beyond. Sedgestrike was left wondering what perturbed her so. 

Snakefang narrowed his eyes as he gazed across the river. “I believe we should cross,” he suggested with a hiss. “We need to make sure the fire is not close enough to shed embers onto our land.” 

Pebblepaw whimpered from beside him, visibly not thrilled by the notion. 

Snakefang hissed again, this time glaring at his apprentice. “As if your fear will hold us back,” he scorned. “What kind of warrior will you become if you tremble at the slightest sign of adversity?” 

Sedgestrike felt a pang of sympathy for Pebblepaw as he shrunk back, but she had to agree with Snakefang. A warrior needed to be brave. Turning to the river, she watched it rush angrily before them. 

“While I agree that we should investigate, we can’t do it here,” Sedgestrike decided. “The river current is too strong. We will need to travel downstream.” 

“Well, let’s hurry then!” Snakefang prompted. “Time is against us.” 

Sedgestrike prickled in annoyance at his impatience, though she knew it was justified. Leading her patrol down the riverbank, the water continued to rush fervently. As they travelled along, they would pause every now and then to renew their scent markings, but the main goal was finding a safe way to cross. After following the river border to the end of the pine forest and the beginning of the cypress swamp, the river grew even wider, but calmer. Without such a narrow path, it was free to stretch and flow, and it needed not to crash and rush to do so. 

Sedgestrike hesitated on the sandy shore, flanked by cattails and reeds. “This is where we will cross,” she decided. “It’s a long stretch, but we can swim it.” 

“But--” 

Pebblepaw’s mew was cut short by a warning growl from Snakefang. “The patrol’s leader just gave an order, and you will respect it!” 

“But, there’s another way,” Pebblepaw continued meekly, shying away from Snakefang as if he would strike him. 

Sedgestrike’s brows raised. “Where?” 

Pebblepaw nodded beyond where they stood. In the distance, a vast oak was lying on its side, stretching almost completely across the river. Its side was charred and frayed, its splinters jagged like a collection of teeth. 

“The lightning from the storm last night likely struck it,” Blueflower surmised. She smiled at Pebblepaw. “Well done!” Her purr brought the first smile to Pebblepaw’s face Sedgestrike had seen all day. 

“Yes, good eyes, Pebblepaw,” Sedgestrike praised, smiling back. 

Snakefang grumbled in turn. “‘Bout time you do something useful.” 

Pebblepaw’s smile faded when Snakefang spoke, and Sedgestrike frowned with sympathy. Her relationship with Batface was strained in the beginning as well, but Sedgestrike knew her defiance was the cause. It just seemed like Snakefang lacked the patience to deal with Pebblepaw. She wondered if she could mention something to Whitestar… 

“Let’s get a move on,” Sedgestrike murmured, knowing not to dwell on here concern for long. Heading for the fallen oak, Sedgestrike climbed atop it with ease. The muscles in her broad shoulders rippled appreciatively as they were stretched, and when she stood on the trunk, she caught Blueflower gazing at her admiringly. Sedgestrike felt her face grow hot at the attention, though she was silently pleased, and turned to lead the others along the trunk. The oak’s branches rattled and shook as the cats trekked across its body. Bark flaked against Sedgestrike’s paws, falling into the river to be swallowed by its current. Padding faster, she pushed through the cluster of branches and landed on the other side of the river. The smoke was not as strong here, and she could see into the depths of the foreign forest. Bracken and ivy dominated the floor, hiding clusters of sodden leaves that had fallen from the surrounding oaks and maples. The cypress swamp was not as predominant on the other side. Sedgestrike thought it was remarkable how much a simple river border could do to change the landscape between two territories. 

Once her patrol assembled around her, Sedgestrike nodded appreciatively. “We’re in the Land of the Fallen now,” she stated. “Let’s keep close together and find this fire.” 

“And if we see the Fallen?” Zinniablossom demanded. Her claws were already unsheathed. 

Sedgestrike hesitated. She did not want to be picking fights outside of MarshClan, especially when their tasking was so simple. “We ignore them,” she mewed simply. “Let’s try not to be seen. This isn’t our land, we are the trespassers, remember?” 

Zinniablossom grumbled, nodding grudgingly. 

Sedgestrike pushed through the massive swathes of ferns. It was strange to not tread on boggy earth or behold massive cypress trees. The feeling of leaf rot beneath her toes was alien to her, but she curled them into the soil curiously. The scents of the forest were strange and new, but void of the one thing she sought after: smoke. 

“Let’s backtrack along the bank,” Sedgestrike mewed. “We need to head towards the fire.” 

Breaking into the brisk trot, Sedgestrike maneuvered through the hammock of hardwoods. As they pressed on, the thick, moist soil thinned into a bedding of familiar pine needles. The scent of evergreens returned to her nostrils, and with it, the scent of smoke. Sedgestrike stiffened. 

“We’re here. Stay close,” she ordered. 

The pine forest grew thicker as they left the river border and ventured deeper into the Land of the Fallen. Sedgestrike’s heart skipped excitedly at the notion of seeing new land, but she felt anxiety prickle along her spine when she considered what it would mean to see a Fallen. As the air around them darkened with a haze of black, Sedgestrike lowered herself closer to the ground, her patrol followed her lead, and they slithered through the narrow pine trees and congregations of palmettos. 

“Do you see it?” Pebblepaw squeaked, coughing. 

“No,” Sedgestrike called back, squinting the smoke thickened more, burning her eyes. 

All her instincts screamed for her to turn back, but the demands of the mission and her role as leader prevented her from obeying her body’s most basic desires. Once the pine forest began to think, Sedgestrike came upon a vast field. Leaving the shadows of the pine forest, Sedgestrike stared in wonder at the territory before her. 

A clear field, dappled with the occasional broad oak tree stretched out before her. The grass was golden brown, growing up to Sedgestrike’s chest. Never before had she seen such a sight. There was no marsh, no lake, just plains, and they stretched beyond her vision, beyond her comprehension. All around, she could see the field was surrounded by pine forests, and across the field, in the furthest forest, the fire burned. Wind buffeted at the angry orange flames, tossing smoke and ash into the sky to create billows of gray that muddied the clouds with their erratic forms. 

“I don’t think the fire will reach us,” Sedgestrike assessed. When a gust of wind blew their way, another haze of smoke came with it to burn her eyes and lungs. Coughing, she backed away from it, back toward the pine forest. 

She could hear her patrol prepare to return, but not before she heard a mysterious voice cry out, “Who goes there?!” 

Sedgestrike froze. 

“It’s them,” Snakefang hissed. 

“I knew those cretins would sniff us out,” Zinniablossom cursed. “What do we do now?” 

Sedgestrike looked toward the field, knowing it flanked the pine and hardwood forests they initiall travelled through. “This land runs parallel to the river border just like ours,” Sedgestrike hissed. “Let’s just cut through the field and turn back toward it. If we run back into the pine forest now, they’ll find us.” 

“We won’t fight?” Zinniablossom spat. 

“There’s a fire raging!” Sedgestrike snarled, frustrated by her contention. “These are not good fighting conditions. Now, move!” 

Breaking into a run, Sedgestrike led her patrol into the field. As they ran through the grasses, the wind churned into her fur, brushing through it with a cool hiss. All around them, smoke and debris clouded their vision and marred their senses. Sedgestrike kept her tail raised for her patrol to follow. 

“Stay with me!” she yowled. 

Heart racing, Sedgestrike slowed to a stop when another gust of wind drew smoke across the entirety of the field, darkening her vision. Her body was wracked by coughs, and she lowered her head in an effort to escape the smoke. Only the sound of her labored breathing and the distant crackling of the massive inferno could be heard. She glanced back to see the fire lapping angrily at the pastel sky, turning it black and red. 

“Blueflower?” Sedgestrike called out. “Pebblepaw? Snakefang?” 

Her patrol was lost. In a panic, Sedgestrike turned back to try to find them, but she was disoriented by the thick clouds of gray. Everything looked the same. Breathing heavily, she began to look in all directions, trying to find the pine forest again. All she could see was the haze of the fire and the grasses of the field. 

“No… no… no, this can’t be happening.” Sedgestrike broke into a run again, galloping through the field like a startled deer. “Blueflower!” she called out again. “Zinniablossom!” 

Sedgestrike thought she saw a frame within the smoke. Skidding to a halt, she squinted as she tried to decipher the cat it belonged to. “Pebblepaw?” she mewed. As the frame began to fade, Sedgestrike ran towards it. “No, wait!” 

Once it vanished, Sedgestrike was lost again. She began to cough, eyes watering. Suddenly, another silhouette emerged, then another, and another. Sedgestrike was surrounded. Unsheathing her claws, Sedgestrike prepared for a fight she was bound to lose. Her lungs begged for fresh air, while her eyes struggled to perceive the approaching cats. She heard them whispering, not to her it seemed, nor to each other. To themselves? 

Sedgestrike shut her eyes, collapsing into the dirt with a grunt as the smoke grew thicker. Her breathing became shallow as she began to crawl away. “Stay away from me,” she croaked. 

A pair of jaws clamped onto her hackles, dragging her. She clawed at them feebly, growling softly. Her consciousness faded temporarily, and when Sedgestrike came to again, she was staring at a graying sky. The breeze was still flowing, but it did not carry any smoke with it. Sitting up shakily, Sedgestrike saw the same field, but this time, she was near the pine forest. 

“How…” 

“You’re awake.” 

Sedgestrike looked up to see a familiar pair of impossibly pale green eyes. She felt her breath catch in her throat when she remembered seeing the same pair of eyes from the top of the Great Cypress. 

“I-it’s you!” she sputtered, fur standing on end. 

The tabby cat nodded. Their fur was a pale cinnamon hue, unlike anything she had seen in the Clan before, and their stripes twisted and curled like the moss that hung from the cypress trees. As Sedgestrike was able to gaze closer, she could see scars littering their shoulders and the side of their neck, rumpled and fierce. 

“It’s me,” they mewed simply. Their scent was masked by the rich scent of sage and mint, a perfume so thick Sedgestrike could not decipher whether they were male or female without getting personal. “I am overjoyed to see you survived your fall.” 

“Uhm… thank you?” Sedgestrike rose slowly, coughing. “And thanks for saving me,” she rasped.

“Of course. I was hoping to see you again, but under better circumstances.” Their voice was colored with a calmness and clarity that resembled the Starlit Springs. Sedgestrike felt strangely at peace in their presence. “But, as fate would have it, misfortune is what binds our lives together. It saddens me to say that a collection of misfortunes will befall us both before our destinies are realized… but that is fate at its--” 

“Who are you?” Sedgestrike asked, voice hoarse. 

“Mosswhisper.” The tabby sat before her, the wind ruffling their pelt. “Or, as your Clan would have it… I am Fallen.” 

Sedgestrike prickled with unease. A Fallen… saved her life? 

“You must be wondering why I saved you?” they surmised. “As if not wanting to watch someone die isn’t good reason enough.” 

Sedgestrike lowered her head, feeling sheepish. As they spoke, she noticed a slight silvering to their muzzle, which betrayed their age. “I’m sorry… I’m just confused.” 

“That’s okay. All will become clear soon enough.” 

“Do you know me or something?” Sedgestrike growled, growing suspicious and impatient with the cat’s vague answers. 

“I know of you.” Mosswhisper’s eyes narrowed. “The heavens are enraptured by your very existence.” 

“Charmed…” Sedgestrike deadpanned, eyeing them in confusion. 

“I would say more, but you aren’t ready.” Mosswhisper turned their muzzle toward the pine forest. “Your patrol eagerly awaits your return, Sedgestrike.” 

Sedgestrike followed their gaze to the pine forest, only to stiffen and hiss. “Hey, wait, how do you know my…” She turned only for the cat to be gone. Wind whistled eerily in the air. “Name…” 

Disgruntled, Sedgestrike began to make her way toward the pine forest, and it was not long before she came upon her patrol. They were pacing and frazzled, clearly disturbed by her prolonged disappearance. Blueflower in particular was fervently scanning the field, and when their eyes locked, Sedgestrike was delightfully overwhelmed by the joy in her blue eyes. The warrior rushed to her, pressing her muzzle to her own with a loud purr. 

“You’re okay!” she exclaimed, relieved. 

Sedgestrike smiled. “It takes more than a bit of smoke and fire to get rid of me,” she boasted lightheartedly. 

“About time,” Zinniablossom snapped. “I thought you were getting roasted to the bone out there.” 

Sedgestrike was able to ignore Zinniablossom’s prickly remark. She had seen the warrior pacing worriedly before Sedgestrike arrived. Like it or not, she was afraid for her too. 

Pebblepaw rushed to her side, smiling widely. “I thought you were taken prisoner!” He sighed loudly. “Zinniablossom and Snakefang were already arguing about who would take charge on the way back.” 

Sedgestrike rolled her eyes. That sounded about right. “I’m just glad everyone made it back okay,” she mewed, gazing over her patrol. 

“We wouldn’t have been able to without Blueflower!” Pebblepaw chirped, smiling at the she-cat. “She knew how to get us through the field in a jiffy.” 

Sedgestrike heard Blueflower giggle in embarrassment. “I just know how to judge the movement of the wind,” she reasoned. 

Though Sedgestrike was impressed by Blueflower’s feat, she caught the suspicious glance Zinniablossom and Snakefang exchanged and her heart sank. Before she could speak up on Blueflower’s behalf, Snakefang spoke out, “Yeah, your knowledge of this land is surprisingly thorough.” 

“Maybe it’s because your folks tell you all the ins and outs,” Zinniablossom added jokingly. 

“Enough!” Sedgestrike snarled. Rage boiled up inside her. “I’ll not have you doubt her integrity based on hearsay. She’s a MarshClan warrior just like you and I. She saved your skins for StarClan’s sake!” 

Blueflower’s calm mew soothed Sedgestrike, “They’re just being petty.” Her gaze was icy. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell any of your friends back in camp about your panic attack in the smoke, Zinniablossom.” 

Snakefang broke out in a bout of snickers to Zinniablossom’s dismay. “Oh, yeah! You were so freaked out, you were chasing your tail,” he teased 

“And I won’t tell Jasminefur about how you nearly ran into the flames, Snakefang,” Blueflower added curtly. 

It was Zinniablossom’s turn to laugh, and Pebblepaw joined in too until Snakefang flashed him a glare. 

Sedgestrike sighed with relief. She knew Blueflower could take care of herself, but that did not stiphen her desire to defend her in the slightest. She brushed her dark tabby fur against Blueflower’s. “Let’s go,” she murmured. 

Making their way towards the river border, Sedgestrike felt herself being drawn back to the expansive field. Mosswhisper… The cat that perplexed her as an apprentice from atop the Great Cypress finally had a name. She was left to ponder their intentions. They mentioned something about her not being ready for what they had to say, and Sedgestrike was disturbed by the notion. What more did she have to endure before she would be ready? And what did she need to be ready for, exactly?


	23. Great Expectations

SUNHIGH arrived and with it came the heat of day. After being plunged in the smoke and flames within the Land of the Fallen, Sedgestrike was ready to relax in the cool of the shade in camp. She relished the feeling of water soaking her fur once again as she waded through the marsh with her patrol. Though the sight of a new land was breathtaking, she was content to be back in her own territory. 

Coming upon the sawgrass that framed camp, as she rustled through it she began to hear the bustle of cats going about their day. The scents of MarshClan wafted through the grasses to welcome her home. It pained her to think about the forces working beneath the surface to change her Clan forever. It pained her even more to realize that she was the one destined to initiate the metamorphosis. 

Upon entering camp, she absorbed the tranquil sight of MarshClan going about their day. Beyond the Fallen Cypress, Mother Lake twinkled in the background, holding the sun on its shimmering surface. Juniperheart bathed in the sunlight outside the nursery while Shellshine groomed her pale tortoiseshell fur, taking care to be gentle around her very pregnant belly. 

Foxpaw was tending to the elders den alone, looking fatigued. He was likely saddled with the task on a whim. His paws fumbled beneath him as he wrestled with a large cluster of soiled moss. 

“Pebblepaw, go assist Foxpaw,” Snakefang ordered, sounding annoyed. 

“R-right…” The dappled gray apprentice hurried to the other, glancing back anxiously at the patrol. 

“I’ll go debrief our patrol with Spiderfang,” Sedgestrike murmured. “You all can eat or rest until you receive more… tasking.” She was unsure how to properly break a patrol, but that sounded about right. 

“I’ll come with you,” Zinniablossom offered. 

“That’s not very necessary.” 

“I insist.” 

“No,” Sedgestrike growled firmly. She was not ignorant to Zinniablossom’s intentions. The she-cat was trying to overstep her authority throughout the entire patrol; the last thing she wanted was to be overshadowed in her own debrief. “Thank you, but no.” 

Not wanting to argue with the eager warrior further, she briskly made her way toward the Fallen Cypress. She felt nervous as she came upon the hollow tree. She heard murmurs within, and hesitated outside her leader and deputy’s fortress. 

The voice came from Jasminefur. “They’re my kits just as much as his.” She was arguing, but her voice was as soft as a flower petal. 

“I understand, but I am their kin too, and I agree with him. Two moons, and they will be apprenticed, that’s final.” Whitestar’s cold voice rang clear, freezing Sedgestrike. 

“You may be their aunt, but I am their mother.” Jasminefur refused to budge. “I can’t believe you won’t listen to me… What could you possibly need all these apprentices for? Our borders are quiet. The challenges we face come from nature, not the Fallen.” 

“Don’t chastise me,” Whitestar snapped. “You don’t know of the dangers threatening our Clan. We need to be strong to defend ourselves!” 

“I only don’t know because you won’t tell to me,” Jasminefur reasoned. “I don’t know what’s happened to you, Whitestar. You used to tell me everything.” 

“And you think I want to burden you with the knowledge of everything?” Whitestar scoffed. “You should be grateful you do not know what I know, or see what I see… I allow you to live a comfortable life with Snakefang, a safe life. How easy it must be to ask for more, when you know not what ‘more’ entails?” 

“All I ask is they be apprenticed as normal,” Jasminefur mewed steadily. 

Sedgestrike’s ears perked. They were talking about Hawthornkit and Magnoliakit. Whitestar did make the decree for all apprentices to start their training at five moons, but was she asking for them to start even earlier? The distress in Jasminefur’s voice attested to it. 

“Two moons. You have two moons with them in the nursery, and then they’ll begin.” Whitestar’s words were final. 

The silence that followed was too much for Sedgestrike. She purposefully brushed against the cypress log as she made her way to the entrance. Before she could approach the mossy curtain, she saw Jasminefur’s white pelt hurriedly exit for the nursery, her head downcast. 

Sedgestrike hovered at the entrance, watching Jasminefur leave with a heavy heart. Whitestar’s harsh mew sounded. “It’s rude to linger… enter, now.” 

Quickly, Sedgestrike pushed through the moss, setting foot inside the den for the first time. The massive hollow of the log was larger than she imagined. Spongy moss and steps of fungi layered its insides, emitting a musty, earthy smell. Feathers of all hues painted the floor where more moss piled for bedding. To think, the leader and deputy shared such a spacious den. The warriors den looked like an ant pit in comparison. 

“Whitestar,” she greeted, bowing her head. 

“Ah, Sedgestrike,” Whitestar sounded relieved as she meowed. “I pray you have good news?” 

“Yes, the fire is well within the Land of the Fallen. It will most likely not reach our border.” 

“Good.” She shuddered. “Such a destructive element. I am glad our territory is blessed with boundless water. We will never have to deal with such chaos.” 

“Right,” Sedgestrike muttered in agreement. 

“Maybe those flames will finally purge us of the Fallen, hm?” Whitestar mused, smiling to herself. 

“Their territory is vast,” Sedgestrike reasoned, disturbed by her leader’s grin. “They likely avoided the fire and found shelter.” 

“You’re right,” Whitestar hissed, shaking her head. “Elders have long said their land is cursed...” Her amber eyes glinted. “Their pine forests are constantly plagued by fires. Even the forces of nature want them gone! And yet, they remain.” She laughed humorlessly. “I fear there may be only one way to rid of them.” 

“Rid of them?” Sedgestrike pressed, heart skipping a beat. “But, you’ve already banished them. Surely they are harmless in exile?” 

Whitestar shook her head. “So naive, young paragon. Our perfect society cannot come to fruition if they continue to exist; it’s like they have a sickness in their brain… and it spreads to others in MarshClan, infecting good warriors one by one, daring them to doubt me. We cannot have our warriors doubt me or Spiderfang or any of the paragons--not if we are to bring the Eternal Night into its true form.” 

Sedgestrike felt uneasy, and she instinctively inched away from her leader. The hatred in her voice was frightening. Whatever Eternal Night’s true form was, she did not want to find out, but she knew she had to know. “What will you--I mean, we do?” 

“Whatever it takes,” Whitestar hissed, eyes glinting. “But first, we need to snuff out the traitors within.” 

“You think there are more?” 

“I know there are more.” Whitestar’s leaned in, and Sedgestrike stiffened. “You will help me find them.” 

“O-of course, Whitestar.” Sedgestrike knew she could not refuse, even if her heart wailed at the thought of putting cats on trial. “Whatever it takes.” 

Whitestar stared at her for what felt like moons before reclining with a nod. “Good.” She gazed through the curtain of moss with narrow eyes. “I know Minnowtail couldn’t have acted alone. There were others… The Place of Eternal Night comes to me, telling me MarshClan harbors dissenters in all dens. I am beginning to fear They are right.” 

Sedgestrike’s eyes widened. She was not used to hearing Whitestar sound… helpless. The rare moment of vulnerability vanished as her leader’s glare hardened. “No matter. The Order will prevail. We always have.” A chilling laugh escaped her lips. “StarClan is just too good at screwing up.” 

“What will you have me do?” Sedgestrike asked. She did not want to be trapped within the wooden walls of Whitestar’s den any longer. She needed to be tasked and sent away before she broke down. 

“Keep your eyes on Molefoot,” Whitestar murmured. “They were the one that filled Ospreyflight’s head with all that nonsense about Hemlockstar, no doubt, despite my banning of discussion of his tactics. As admirable as they were, we need MarshClan to view the Order and its paragons in a favorable light, don’t you agree?” 

“Yes, Whitestar,” Sedgestrike mewed robotically. Just get me out of here… 

“Once the time comes for Night Eternal to take form, and for us to unveil ourselves, we want as little backlash as possible. This will be a smooth transition,” Whitestar mewed tactfully. 

“I’ll be going now,” Sedgestrike muttered. 

“Take care, young paragon.” 

As Sedgestrike left the den, she was able to breath again. Gulping in deeply, she shuddered. The more she learned about the Place of Eternal Night, the more she feared Them. The thought of putting Molefoot on trial made her stomach churn unpleasantly. They were always so pleasant to her, and clearly they did a good job training Ospreyflight. Why banish a good warrior for pursuing the truth? Sedgestrike knew why… having the truth meant having power. 

Slowly dragging herself across camp, she noticed warriors gathering in the shade. When the day was at its hottest, MarshClan took to the shade for sharing-tongues and rest. She noticed a cluster of paragons talking in a group: Snakefang, Zinniablossom, Longscar, and Grayjaw. She purposefully avoided them, spotting Blueflower resting in the shade alone. Her heart skipped a beat as she got closer. 

“Hey, Sedgestrike!” Grayjaw called out. “Don’t be shy, come on over.” 

Sedgestrike hesitated, groaning internally. She needed to play the part, or risk Whitestar losing faith in her. Grudgingly, she turned from Blueflower and trotted up to the paragons, eyes downcast. As soon as she arrived, Longscar grunted and left. Sedgestrike watched him go with a curled lip. 

“Don’t let him get to you,” Snakefang hissed. “He takes pride in thinking he is better than everyone else.” 

Longscar snarled in response as he walked away. 

Grayjaw chuckled. “He’ll come around.” His whiskers twitched in amusement. “You must have really ticked him off as an apprentice.” 

“Shocker,” Sedgestrike grumbled. “What doesn’t tick him off?” 

The paragons laughed, nodding in agreement. Sedgestrike felt weirdly comforted by their inclusion. As an apprentice, she only had her siblings and Ospreypaw. Now that she was a warrior, she never thought she would be able to make more friends. _Wait…_ She shook her head slightly. _They only like me because they think I’m one of them._ Sedgestrike knew she had to be careful not to get entangled in the politics. 

“So, I heard the Blossom Festival would be coming up soon,” Zinniablossom began. 

Grayjaw chuckled. “Maybe Palemist will finally realize she’s madly in love with me?” 

“Get a grip, Grayjaw, she’s way too good for you!” Snakefang laughed. 

“Oh, and Jasminefur isn’t too good for you?” Grayjaw countered, grumbling. “I still don’t know how she’s your mate.” 

Snakefang’s eyes were half-shut as he sighed whimsically. “Guess I’m just lucky,” he purred. “Don’t be jealous.” 

Zinniablossom rolled her eyes. “Ugh, you’re getting mushier than a mallow, Snakefang, I swear.” 

Sedgestrike laughed softly, but it petered off when she caught Zinniablossom’s curious gaze. “What about you, anyone barking up your tree?” 

“Uhhh…” Sedgestrike shrugged. No one ever pursued her in that way, and whenever Sedgestrike thought of the Blossom Festival, her mind immediately went to Blueflower. “I don’t know. I don’t even know how to make a promise wreath.” 

“Oh, so you want to be the one to make the proposal, eh?” Grayjaw realized, chuckling eagerly. “So, who’s the lucky tom?” 

Sedgestrike felt her face grow hot, but thankfully she was saved by Snakefang’s groan. “Oh, please, you two are so dense… She clearly has feelings for Blueflower!” 

Feeling like her head was about to explode with embarrassment, Sedgestrike cleared her throat. “Uhm… maybe not so loud?” She stole a glance at Blueflower as she rested; the warrior seemed peacefully asleep, thankfully. 

“Ohh.” Grayjaw’s eyes were wide. “Apologies,” he rumbled, large frame shaking with laughter. 

Snakefang was shaking his head. “Literally everyone in the Clan knows about them. Sedgestrike was pining over her since she was a ‘paw.” 

“I never knew you were so up to speed on Clan gossip, Snakefang,” Sedgestrike teased. 

The skinny tom shrugged, smiling. “Perks of having a queen in the nursery, I guess.” 

“Really?” Zinniablossom grunted. “Her? The only rumor I ever heard was of you and Ospreyflight...” 

Sedgestrike’s eyes narrowed. “Ospreyflight?” She never thought about her friend in that way, but her memories went back to the night they snuck out with her siblings to the Great Cypress. This rumor had those rambunctious kits written all over it… One of the queens likely caught wind of their gossip. If a queen had an ear for anything, it was a crying kit and a fresh bout of gossip. 

“Ospreyflight, huh?” Spiderfang was waltzing up to the group, having returned with the day’s hunting party. The warriors had a successful hunt, for as soon as they entered camp, the rich scent of fresh-kill came with them. Their bounty likely granted Spiderfang permission to relax and talk with his Clanmates. The deputy sat beside them. “That would definitely lift Kiteclaw’s spirits.” He snickered. “She’s in distress after her daughter’s failure last night. Oh, how desperately she wanted her to be a one of us!” 

“It’s not happening,” Sedgestrike mewed. “Ospreyflight is my friend.” 

Spiderfang shrugged. “Well, she’s a better match than Blueflower--no offense.” 

“Offense taken,” Sedgestrike grumbled, causing Grayjaw to chuckle heartily. 

“I’m just saying!” Spiderfang relented, a lopsided grin on his face. “At least Ospreyflight had the potential to be a paragon… Blueflower? Ehhh…” 

“I don’t care about that stuff,” Sedgestrike growled, starting to bristle. The last thing she wanted was criticism from Spiderfang. 

“Ah, young love,” Spiderfang mewed whimsically. “Once you get a little older you’ll realize the perks of having a mate with some status. For now, just enjoy the romance.” 

Sedgestrike lashed her tail. At this point, she would much rather have Longscar sitting with them glaring daggers at her than Spiderfang and his loud mouth. Getting to her paws, she decided it was best to excuse herself from the group before her temper got the best of her. “I’m going to grab a bite to eat,” she muttered stormily. 

“Aw, you’re leaving us?” Spiderfang crooned. 

“Let her go,” Zinniablossom mewed, rolling her eyes. “You got her in a mood now.” 

Stalking away toward the fresh-kill pile, Sedgestrike sought solace in the perfume of marigold wafting off the medicine den and the warm, tangy aroma of fresh-kill. With riverswell in its second moon, fish were abundant, and the pile way layered with plump trout and bass; the healthy sheen to their scales made Sedgestrike’s mouth water. 

“Not bad, huh?” Shaleheart was coming to stand beside her, instantly putting her on edge. 

Sedgestrike glanced at her father warily. “Yeah… good eats,” she mewed awkwardly. He only ever approached her to dish out words of caution or haphazardly ask about her day; either exchange was mildly unpleasant… like an old ant bit that retained a dull sting. 

Plucking a particularly fat fish, Shaleheart plopped it between them, clearing his throat. “How about we share?” he suggested. 

Sedgestrike was too hungry to refuse, despite her misgivings. “Sure.” 

They laid beside one another in silence, each taking a modest bite before sliding the morsel to the other, both refusing to meet the other’s stare. After several bites and several missed opportunities to strike up a conversation, Sedgestrike felt her stomach gurgle with unease. Why did she feel a divide broader than the river border between them? She could never pinpoint the disconnect, but she felt the longing in its spark, for it desired to form some sort of connection with her father. 

“Can you… show me how to make a promise wreath?” she asked suddenly. If there was one thing she wanted to talk about with her father, this was it. She eyed him uneasily, gauging his reaction.

Shaleheart’s eyes widened. “You… wish to be mated with someone?” The surprise in his voice caused Sedgestrike to flinch. 

“Well, yeah, that’s why I’m asking,” she deadpanned. It was Shaleheart’s turn to flinch. 

“Hoo-okay.” Shaleheart cleared his throat, nodding. “Of course, uhm, I’ll show you.” 

Sedgestrike’s eyes widened. “You will?” 

“Yeah, you need to know these things, right?” He laughed nervously, shuffling his paws. “I just… may I ask who it’s for?” 

Of all the cats in MarshClan, the one cat that remained oblivious to Sedgestrike’s attraction to Blueflower was the one she wished noticed it most: her own father. She rolled her eyes. “It’s Blueflower,” she answered. 

“Blueflower?” Shaleheart echoed. His eyes were nearly bulging out of their sockets as he failed to control his shock. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” Sedgestrike lifted her chin defiantly. “Is that a problem?” 

“N-no, no! It’s just… Blueflower, hmmm, wow… Uh.” 

Sedgestrike began to bristle. “Is it because she’s a she-cat?” she growled. 

“Of course not! No!” he snapped. He shook his head, flustered. “It’s just… why her? I mean… she does not have a good reputation. Her upbringing… it’s—it’s questionable to say the least.”

“I don’t care about that,” Sedgestrike retorted, miffed. Why was he sounding like Spiderfang? Her skin crawled with disgust at the thought of comparing her kin to the deputy. “I love her.” 

Shaleheart nodded solemnly. “I… understand.” He stretched and flexed his toes in the grass, staring absently as the half-eaten fish. “My father gave me the same rebuttal when I wanted to propose to Fernstream,” he admitted. 

Sedgestrike shook her head, confused and hurt. “Then why are you reacting this way? You must know how this feels?” 

“I just… want the best for you, Sedgestrike. Cats talk.” Shaleheart lowered his head, solemn. “I don’t want you to have to go through what I did, not if you can help it.”

“What, and you couldn’t? Why is my love for Blueflower any different than yours for Fernstream?” Sedgestrike protested. She was not sure what she felt more: anger or hurt. 

“This is different,” Shaleheart argued. “Cats will already be talking because two she-cats were mated, let alone you being with someone like Blueflower.” 

“Her only crime is being the offspring of Fallen, and that’s not even her fault!” Sedgestrike countered, seething. Though her outburst caught the attention of some cats in the clearing, it did not temper her rage. Her hisses escaped between her clenched fangs, and her claws dug into the earth. “You’re the only one that cares about what they think; why should I let that change my mind?” Her voice broke. “I thought you would be happy for me.” 

“How can I be?” Shaleheart hissed. His words dug into her like a spear, impaling her. “Our reputation is at stake! You think life is going to be easy with her? You’ll be treated different.” 

“The only one treating me differently is you,” Sedgestrike murmured. “Everyone knows about my feelings for Blueflower. You didn’t even know this whole time… you don’t pay attention to me!” 

“Not everything is about you, Sedgestrike,” Shaleheart pointed out. “I have a life to live that’s my own. I can’t be there watching out for you all the time.” 

“You don’t care,” Sedgestrike realized, growling. “You never cared about me!” 

“Now, that’s enough,” he spat, golden eyes blazing. “Don’t dare doubt my love for you! All I ever did was try to steer you in the right direction!” 

“You were always embarrassed of me. You always thought I was different,” Sedgestrike cried. Her emotions threatened to take over. “You would always shoo me away when I wanted to eat with you… when you would laugh with your friends, and I’d want to laugh too, you would pretend I wasn’t there. What makes me so different? You don’t treat Mudpaw or Yewbranch this way.”

“You’re just… you’re difficult, Sedgestrike!” Shaleheart snapped. Upon unveiling the truth, he recoiled, shriveling into a small tomcat with a glum face and lowered chin. “I couldn’t handle you. I never could. You wouldn’t listen to me. You wouldn’t let me help you when you’d fall or get hurt. How could I be there for you when you didn’t let me? Your temper would get the best of you, and only Fernstream could calm you down. What was I supposed to do? Watch?” He sighed shakily. “I know I failed you as a father. I’m sorry. But you have got to let me help you this one last time.” 

“Help me?” Sedgestrike scoffed. “What’s this? Some last ditch effort to make you feel better about yourself? To say ‘I tried’ and then walk away forever?” She sucked her teeth, chuckling bitterly. “Well, congratulations, you did it,” she hissed softly. “Your final gambit worked. You can rest easy now. I don’t want your help or forgiveness… I don’t want your love.” The words tasted like bile in her mouth as she uttered them; a small voice inside her head warned of her later regret, but her fury strangled all reason. 

“Sedgestrike—“ 

“No!” She shook her head. “Just—just leave me alone.” 

“But—“ 

“Leave!” 

Hesitating, Shaleheart stared at Sedgestrike, hurt shining in his eyes. She met his stare, rage blinding her to the cats around her that whispered and eyed their argument with curious, eager gazes. Sniffing, Sedgestrike swatted their shared fish away before angrily making her way toward the sawgrass. It was all too much. Whitestar, Longscar, Spiderfang, Shaleheart… The Place of Eternal Night. All these faces stared at her, expecting the moon and stars in her paws, or awaiting her failure with baited breath. Too much…


	24. Moirai

PUSHING through the sawgrass, Sedgestrike let it scrape her face and body, not wincing or flinching. She hissed, breaking into a brisk pace until she splashed into the marsh. The heat bore into her dark brown fur, causing her black stripes to gleam. She stared at her reflection in the shallow, murky water, seeing a young warrior with pain in her eyes and anger in her expression. 

“What do you want from me?” she cried out. “What…” She bowed her head, sobbing softly. “What do you want?” 

“Maybe for you to calm down?” Batface’s familiar husky rasp sounded from behind her. 

Numb, Sedgestrike refused to turn around and face him. She noticed the water around her begin to ripple as he stepped closer, splashing softly through the marsh. Glancing sideways at him, she noticed mud smeared against his black fur up to his chest. He was a mess. She raised her head to gaze at him. Did he run to her?

“Sedgestrike,” he rumbled. His scarred muzzle was not wrinkled with disappointment or frustration. Instead, in his orange eyes he held the one emotion she craved: understanding. “What are you doing?” he asked softly.

“I--I don’t know,” she admitted. “I… just needed air.” 

Batface nodded. “I can see why.” 

“Why did you come?” she asked, sniffling. “To keep me in check?” Sedgestrike managed a grin, her laugh weak. 

Batface chuckled. “Those moons are over.” He shook his head, nudging her broad shoulder with his nose. “I came to teach you how to weave.” 

Sedgestrike’s ears perked. “You mean… the promise wreath?”

“Of course. I can’t have you looking a fool during the festival; if you’re going to propose, you have to do it the right way.” 

Sedgestrike’s eyes gleamed. “Thank you, Batface.” 

Rolling his eyes, he flicked his tail under her chin as he passed. “Follow me. I’ll show you how it’s done.” 

Trailing after the old warrior, Sedgestrike slowly felt her spirits lift again. They waded through the marsh in silence. A gentle fluttering noise drew Sedgestrike’s attention to the clusters of duckpotato and reeds that grew alongside them; within, she could see a flock of scarlet ibises scouring the mud for prey. Their bright feathers shone like fire, and from their hooked beaks dripped clumps of peat as they sought bugs buried in the murk. As they drew closer, the flock took to the sky, wings shining like rays from the sun. 

Arriving on the sandy bank that rested just outside the path to the Starlit Springs, Sedgestrike watched as Batface stretched his legs with a grunt. The slightest slouch to his posture and the softest wheeze as he breathed reminded Sedgestrike of his age; her heart sank. She was his last apprentice. It would not be long before he would retire and become an elder… and then… Sedgestrike lowered her head, not wanting to ponder the inevitable. Instead, her thoughts wandered to something more pressing, more mysterious: the Order of the Destined Paragons. 

Her mind begged to ask the questions: what made you a paragon? Why did you join? She kicked the sand thoughtfully, trying to map out her wording. 

“I know it’s been on your mind,” Batface mewed. “You saw me at Father’s Fang. You know I’m a paragon as well.” 

Sedgestrike nodded. She refused to believe her past mentor was like the other members of the Order; to her, they all seemed devious and self-centered… not to mention harboring a questionable agenda. Batface was the exception to the rule, and she desperately wanted it to stay that way. 

“I joined when Pikestar was still in power,” Batface explained. “I was exceptionally skilled in combat, and my loyalty spoke moons of my integrity. When I became an honor graduate alongside my partner, Talloak, I had no idea what I was in for--much like every honor graduate.” 

Sedgestrike’s heart fell to her stomach when Batface uttered the name “Talloak.” She stared at him, bewildered. “You…. knew my grandfather?” 

Batface blinked slowly, not returning her stare. “I did.” 

“What was he like?” 

“He… was a very proud warrior. He loved his job.” Batface’s eyes were narrowed thoughtfully. “He was headstrong, and his temper was infamous.” 

“Shaleheart never talks about him,” Sedgepaw mewed. “I don’t really know anything about Talloak.” 

“Your father never got along with him, but Talloak was also a hard tom to get along with.” 

“How did he pass?” 

Batface stared ahead, contemplative. When he spoke again, the rasp in his voice was jaded. “He died in a pool of blood; he got into a scuffle with one of the Fallen, and he continued to fight despite being severely injured. I like to believe he would’ve lived a long life had he not fought so recklessly that day.” He shook his head, brows furrowed. “It’s a damn shame.”

Hearing of her kin’s bloody fate chilled Sedgestrike. She gazed up, finding the pale blue sky in-between the branches, and she wondered what possessed her grandfather to fight the way he did… and if she inherited his reckless abandon. She decided she did not want to think about Talloak anymore and changed the subject. 

“So… the night you became a paragon… what happened? Did you…” She couldn’t stand the thought of uttering the crux of the “initiation.” Her paws ached at the memory. 

Batface nodded slowly, tilting up his paw to show his soft palm; the pad was calloused and cracked, but it did not disguise the distinct scar that slashed across it. “We all have a destiny. I accepted mine just as you did yours. We musn’t regret the path we’ve chosen; we were fated to be what we’ve become.” His voice was husky as he spoke, thoughtful. 

The talk of destiny weighed heavy on Sedgestrike’s heart. She avoided Batface’s stare, shuffling her paws. “I don’t want my destiny,” she admitted. The prophecy whispered to her repetitively, taunting her. She was born to be this way, to serve the Place of Eternal Night. But if that was true, why did it feel so wrong?

“You don’t have to want it,” Batface assured her coarsely. “It’s yours regardless; you must make of it what you can.” He quirked a brow. “Do you at least remember what I told you?” 

Cracking a smirk, Sedgestrike nodded slowly. “Never give up.” 

“Right.” His voice held a smile.

“So… You don’t regret it?” she ventured to wonder, treading carefully. 

“Whether I regret my choices or not… is a mute point.” Batface stared ahead, his eyes filled with emotions Sedgestrike did not recognize. His words held a tempest, which churned and rumbled with a tumultuous past. “I’ve carried out the will of my leader and the Place of Eternal Night, as I was destined to do.” His voice lowered an octave. “There’s no room for regret.”

Sedgestrike did not realize they were walking along the dusty path until after they stopped talking. Her brain felt ready to explode as it was filled with the mystery of the cosmos. Destiny’s fickle . Batface veered off the trail, coming upon a willow that was swarmed with ivy at its pale gray roots. The drooping branches swayed down on the cats, brushing against their faces welcomingly. 

“The ivy here is the softest and greenest,” Batface told her, approaching the tree slowly. “Go anywhere else and you’ll find soggy or blackened leaves.” 

Sedgestrike admired the ivy vines, for they spiralled gracefully up the gray willow bark like a tabby’s stripes. The sweet scent of willow bark and jasmine filtered through the air, delightfully intoxicating. As Batface dexterously combed through the spiraling ivy vines, Sedgestrike watched with wide eyes. His eyes were half-shut as he pulled the long, thin vines, and they clung to his claws, hanging like unraveled yawn. 

Never before had she seen the old tom look so peaceful. There was even a faint smile on his grizzled muzzle, causing his scars to rumple. She found herself smiling too. His artful motions, comb and pull, comb and pull, reminded Sedgestrike of the ebb and flow of the river water along the bank. A tranquil sigh escaped her lips as she sat beside him. 

“The key is to be gentle but precise.” As Batface collected more of the vines, he wrapped them neatly around his wrist. The star-shaped ivy leaves hung limply from the stems like accessories on a bracelet. “Whether you want to keep the leaves or pluck them is up to you. Just keep in mind they may wilt if you allow them to remain.” 

Sedgestrike nodded slowly, eyes glistening. 

“Alright,” he grunted, chuckling softly. “Stop staring. You need to do it too.” 

“O-oh, right!” Sedgestrike blustered, ears feeling hot. Hesitantly, she stretched out her paw, claws unsheathed, and raked at the vines. Her whiskers drooped when she heard an unsettling snap as the vines were torn, breaking in half. The remains dangled from her claws like stray hairs. 

“Patience,” Batface hissed. “And do not be so forceful. The vines do not need to be yanked free, just guide them toward you.” 

“Okay, okay,” Sedgestrike rumbled, face burning with embarrassment. Her mind wandered back to their first moon as mentor and apprentice, when Sedgestrike recklessly discarded and cleaned the elders’ bedding. She laughed softly. 

“What is it?” Batface rumbled.

“I was thinking of the first time you sent me to clean the elders’ bedding…” 

“Ah, and you had that sodden moss strewn all over camp… It reeked.” Batface shook his head, clearly not pleased by the memory. 

Sedgestrike only laughed at his scowl. “I was so mad. I wanted to get a tour of the territory like the others… but nooo, I had a ‘duty’ to my elders.”

“And they liked you better for it too,” Batface asserted. “Once you were able to do it properly.”

Sedgestrike smiled fondly, nodding. “I guess all that annoying stuff you made me do was worth it in the end.” 

“Ah, so you finally realize my tactics.” 

“It still sucked though,” Sedgestrike deadpanned, laughing as Batface grunted. 

While she reminisced with Batface, she did not realize her paws were working through the vines effortlessly. Once she was cognizant of her actions, she hesitated. The ivy was wrapped neatly around her paw, leaves dangling, but there was nowhere near enough to begin weaving a wreath.

“Don’t think about it,” Batface murmured. “Go with the motion.” 

Sedgestrike continued slowly, a smile growing on her muzzle as the vines came easier to her. More of the pale willow bark could be seen, gleaming like a silver star. She breathed calmly, feeling her nerves relax as the rhythm soothed her soul. She wished she could bottle this peace and keep it tucked in her heart forever. Maybe then, she would no longer be haunted by her destiny. 

“That should be enough ivy,” Batface rasped. 

Sedgestrike nodded, patiently waiting as the older warrior worked at the vines, twisted and threading them together with his claws. He was able to loop and bind them so effortlessly, and Sedgestrike grew nervous at the thought of imitating him. 

“You… proposed to someone?” Sedgestrike asked. Batface never mentioned having a mate nor any kin. She felt a pang of sympathy for him. Was he alone?

“A long time ago, yes.” 

“What did they say?” 

Batface chuckled, his orange eyes glinting with humor. “Curious as always, Sedgestrike.” He continued to intertwine the ivy as he spoke. “She said yes.” 

“She?” Sedgestrike smiled, eager to learn more about him. He rarely spoke of his past with her, or anyone, it seemed. She jumped at the opportunity to hear his story. “What was her name? What was she like?” 

“Her name was Wisteriapetal.” Batface’s smile faded, and his eyes held sorrow. 

Sedgestrike noticed his use of “was” and her heart sank. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked. “I’m sorry you lost her.” 

“Death is inevitable,” Batface growled. “But that doesn’t keep me from wishing that I could stop it.” 

“What happened?” 

Batface shook his head. “Enough questions, young warrior.” 

Sedgestrike bowed her head, feeling rotten for ever asking the question. She watched as Batface finished weaving the wreath, seeing the initial joy vanish in his eyes. It was replaced by a dismal glow. He was grieving. Whatever, or whoever, took Wisteriapetal from him… It still tortured him to this day. Sedgestrike lowered her gaze. If Blueflower died, she was not sure she would ever recover. The mere sight of her ignited such happiness in her; to think if she was gone, that light would never spark again… 

“It’s your turn, young warrior,” Batface murmured. 

Grappling at the ivy, Sedgestrike gingerly worked at the vines. She hissed softly when the stems got entangled in her claws, snagging. How did he make it look so easy? As she wrapped the vines in a messy weave, her frustration grew. 

“Watch that temper,” Batface warned gruffly. “You don’t want negative emotions going into your work.” 

Sedgestrike nodded, grumbling to herself. She tried to think less about the weaving and more about who it was for. She imagined Blueflower’s beautiful face, smiling shyly at her as she was presented with a perfect wreath; her voice, gentle as a dayflower’s petal, uttering the one word Sedgestrike longed for: “yes.” 

Her reverie ended when she no longer had vines to twine. Gazing down at her paws, she beheld a wreath; while it was nowhere near as perfect as the wreath in her imagination, it was sturdy enough to withstand the journey to the orange grove. She smiled faintly. 

“A job well done,” Batface praised, purring. 

“I hope she likes it,” Sedgestrike mewed, voice shaking with nerves already. 

“She will,” Batface assured her. “In the end, it’s not the wreath that matters, but the promise it symbolizes. If you two are serious about this relationship, the promise you make will withstand the tests of time and life.” 

“Thank you,” Sedgestrike whispered. 

Overwhelmed by emotion, she rushed to the old warrior, pressing her head beneath his chin with a loud purr. At first, Batface felt stiff, but soon he was purring with her, and rested his chin on her head as she nuzzled into his chest in a warm embrace. 

“Alright,” Batface rumbled. “Let’s not get too sentimental.” 

Sedgestrike nodded, sniffling with a smile. “Yeah, yeah.” 

As Batface led the way back to the marsh, Sedgestrike followed behind with her wreath in tow in her jaws. She smiled contentedly. For once, she felt… at peace. The Place of Eternal Night felt like it was eons away as the sun shone brightly in the pale blue sky. The coldness of Whitestar’s amber eyes was a distant memory as light warmed her fur. All she needed was a moment of tranquility, and the comforting presence of Batface. Finally, Sedgestrike had the confidence to tell herself that “everything would be okay.”


	25. Cicho! Licho nie śpi.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **"Cicho! Licho nie śpi."** , _Polish proverb_  
>  Translation: Quiet! Evil does not sleep.

SCARLET bled through the reeds, shining onto MarshClan camp with witha warm glow. The sun was sinking towards the horizon by the time Sedgestrike returned with Batface. A comfortable silence wafted through camp, soft and sweet like the perfume of fresh flowers; cats were winding down now, talking quietly amongst themselves now that the day was coming to an end. In the distance, Sedgestrike could see smoke still rising into the sky that burned bright red . The scent of charred pine in the distance was faint now. Even the once raging fire was waning as the day came to a close. 

However, Sedgestrike could feel a prick of energy, like static, rising when her presence became known. The aftermath of her storm of emotions was composed of critical stares and sharp whispers. The murmurs surrounding her only grew more fervent when her Clanmates took notice of the promise wreath in her jaws. 

“Don’t mind them,” Batface murmured softly. “Keep your chin up.” 

Sedgestrike’s ears flicked and she nodded quietly. Making a beeline for the warriors den, she decided to evade the judgemental stares of her Clanmates for now and tuck away her wreath. As she entered the cool shade of the den, she heard gentle murmurs. 

“We made sure to give you extra feathers.” The voice belonged to Gingerstep. Peering through the shadows, Sedgestrike could see the warrior coaxing Egretsong into her bed with soft whispers. “You’ll be even more comfy now. And-and we have some crushed elderflower from Redleaf, just in case your eyes get irritated.” 

“Thank you.” Egretsong’s usually bright and cheery voice was dull and gray. Her ears perked and nose twitched, and when she raised her chin, Sedgestrike stiffened when she saw her once beautiful face was marred with scratches, and her golden eyes were clouded and reduced to tiny, squinted slits on her face. “Sedgestrike,” she mewed. “You’re here.” 

“Yes…” Sedgestrike mewed uneasily. With the mud and marsh still stuck to her fur from her transit back to camp, she was surprised Egretsong took notice of her scent so fast. 

“And you have a wreath… I can taste the ivy.” A small smile spread on her scarred face. “Good luck.” 

Sedgestrike bowed her head, though she knew Egretsong would not be able to see her gratitude. “Thank you so much.” She hoped she could hear it in her voice. 

“You’re welcome.” Egretsong lowered herself into her nest, staring blankly ahead with a small smile. “I wish you the best for tomorrow.” 

“It’s tomorrow?!” Sedgestrike felt like gagging as her nerves sparked to life and twisted in her tummy. 

“Whitestar made the announcement a little while ago,” Gingerstep clarified, still eyeing Egretsong with concern. Sedgestrike thought she saw guilt on the warrior’s face, but she could not discern why. It was not her fault that Egretsong was injured… 

“Will you not be going?” Sedgestrike mewed, eyeing Egretsong with sympathy. 

“What… looking like this?” The warrior shook her head. “No one would want someone that looks like me.” 

“That’s not true!” Gingerstep protested, rasping her tongue reassuringly across her sister’s forehead. “No matter your scars, you’re still one of the most beautiful she-cats in MarshClan.”

“I’d rather not compete with Palemist or Littlebrook… I couldn’t take the shame…” Egretsong rested her chin on her paws, sighing softly. “I’ll be fine here.” 

“You don’t have to go to find a mate,” Sedgestrike murmured hopefully. “Just go for the fun. You can eat the honeycomb and roll in the catmint!” 

Egretsong smiled softly, shaking her head. “I wish I could share your enthusiasm, Sedgestrike, but I have nothing to celebrate.” 

Sedgestrike bowed her head forlornly, making her way to her nest in silence. As she tucked her wreath away, she frowned, realizing how easily the Fallen destroyed Egretsong’s happiness. Minnowtail’s betrayal scarred the warrior for the rest of her life, and for what? Scorchface? Sedgestrike chewed on the notion, but the morsel tasted like carrion on her tongue, and her face twisted in disgust. How far would the Fallen go? And why would they go that far? 

Curling up in her nest, she decided that she would skip dinner tonight and succumb to sleep. She had no appetite and no will to show her face in camp. After blowing up on Shaleheart, Sedgestrike felt her spirits settle on the pyre, simmering with latent regret. There was at least one thing she still had to look forward to… Smiling softly, she shut her eyes and thought of Blueflower, but her bright imaginings of love were soon overcome by darkness. 

Ice surrounded Sedgestrike, twinkling menacingly in the shadows. The swamp that she stood in was infested by frost, which clustered at the roots and hid in the branches of the trees. She was in the Place of Eternal Night again. Dread overcame her as a familiar, eccentric laugh echoed through the night. Pikestar. 

Golden eyes blazing, she thought she saw his spotted pelt maneuver through the reeds, but as she honed in on the rustle, all she saw were shadows. He was toying with her. As a spirit, he could be anywhere and everywhere at once if he willed it. She bristled, and her dark brown tabby fur was ruffled by a chilling breeze. His laugh was carried in the curtails of it, ominous and impish. 

“Enough games,” she growled. “You’re visiting me to talk, right? Let’s talk.” She unsheathed her claws, eyes darting wildly around in search of him. Her lips were parted to taste the air, but her tongue was forced to savor cold nothingness; it almost hurt her lungs to breathe. 

“Sedgestrike, always on your guard, claws unsheathed.” Pikestar’s praising purr came from the treetops. He was sprawled out on a branch, grinning with his tail curled around it like a vine. “It’s so… deliciously barbaric.” 

A snarl escaped Sedgestrike. She was tempted to scale the cypress and claw him, but she knew he would evaporate and reappear unscathed. It would only entertain him. “I already told you I would not help you realize your goal. You visiting me is all in vain,” she taunted confidently, chin raised. 

“And I’ve told you whether you will or won’t is a moot point. It cannot be undone. The moment you were born, the prophecy was realized, and the moment you marked yourself in Father’s Fang, your fate was sealed.” Pikestar began to fade from the branch, only to materialize before Sedgestrike in a cloud of black miasma; shadowy wisps continued to roll off his pelt as he spoke to her. “I will visit you in your dreams every night until you accept your role,” he whispered. “These can be bad dreams or good dreams, depending on how you cooperate.” 

Sedgestrike snorted. “You don’t scare me.” 

“I’m not trying to scare you… I’m only telling you the truth.” He trotted around her, but his paws did not cause the water to ripple. “There are other, stronger cats here; cats that know how to get what they want.” 

“Oh, what, and you don’t?” Sedgestrike taunted, scoffing. “Are you just their messenger?” 

Pikestar shrugged, tail flicking dismissively. “I just don’t like getting my paws dirty… if that makes me a messenger, I’ll happily take the title.” 

“Paws dirty?” Sedgestrike shook her head. “Let them come. They can’t harm me.” 

Pikestar sighed, rolling his eyes. “If you insist. Don’t say I didn’t warn you…” 

As he began to fade into the darkness, Sedgestrike was left standing alone. The silence was heavy. With only the noise of her heartbeat filling her ears, her thoughts began to race. Who else lingered in this place? Slowly, she began to back away, wanting to escape the icy swamp. When she heard a feral snarl from the rustling, frosted ferns before her, she turned and broke into a sprint. 

Water splashed against her, icy cold, as she raced through the marsh. The further she ran, the more it seemed like her surroundings were unchanged. Was she running in circles? Her eyes darted wildly as she sought an escape. The entangled cypress branches above began to curve inward, like claws, closing in on her from overhead, creating a tunnel. Sedgestrike’s heartbeat roared in her ears, exaggerated by the groans and howls coming from the swamp. 

“Get me out of here,” she shrieked, looking for stars between the clustered branches. The night sky was void of anything but blackness. “StarClan!” 

Suddenly, Sedgestrike came to a stop when she collided with a well-muscled tabby. She grunted, gazing up from the marsh that engulfed her as she fell, seeing a pair of bright yellow eyes gazing down at her. “Shaleheart?” she whispered. 

“So you have come,” the tabby tom rumbled, blinking slowly. 

This cat was not Shaleheart. He was taller with broad shoulders and a stronger chin than her father. “Talloak?” Sedgestrike whispered. 

“They are foaming at the mouth to find you,” Talloak rumbled, eyes downcast. “What happens next will not be pleasant.” 

“Please,” Sedgestrike begged, bringing a paw to reach for her grandfather. “Help me.” 

Talloak slowly backed away. “The forces at work are stronger than you and I. Trifle with Them… and face Their wrath.” He narrowed his eyes. “You chose this. It’s time you play along… that’s what I did.” 

“No… no! Don’t leave me!” Sedgestrike scrambled through the marsh, feeling the mud thicken and grip at her pelt, eager to drag her down. Talloak was already fading, avoiding her desperate stare. 

“I knew this would happen…” The grief in the warrior’s voice was raw as his tabby pelt peeled away into darkness. “My son was a fool not to listen.” Only the faint glow of his eyes remained as he whispered: “Your parents doomed us all.” 

“Talloak!” Sedgestrike wailed, but her plea was heard by only the trees, which sighed with a breeze. 

“My, my…” A soft, comforting voice sounded, but as Sedgestrike’s ears swiveled, she found she could not place its origin. It surrounded her. “It’s not safe for the living to travel here… alone.” 

Rising from the mud, Sedgestrike saw a ghastly figure watching her from the bracken, eyes glowing with curiosity. The apparition was pure white with eyes as icy blue as the frost around them. “The mind is a fragile thing, so easily corrupted… so delicate… and yet, so powerful and full of potential,” he mused. His voice whispered through the fern fronds like a soft breeze, and he approached her with movements so fluid, Sedgestrike thought he was walking on air. “When you wander this place alone… your mind becomes more vulnerable with each step you take.” 

Sedgestrike was frozen by his presence; though he walked with grace and poise, she sensed an aura far more sinister than she imagined possible. 

“Who… who are you?” Sedgestrike murmured. 

“You know me.” The white cat smiled sweetly, his angelic voice was unsettling when coupled with such lifeless eyes. “I am Hemlockstar.” 

Her blood ran cold. The kit killer. The maniac that slaughtered any raider or sympathizer and their offspring. She was in his presence. At his mercy. 

“Pikestar said you were still hesitant to initiate our plans?” Hemlockstar asked, concerned. “What ails you, Sedgestrike? What misgivings do you possess?” 

“Being in the company of cats like you is reason enough,” Sedgestrike growled, voice wavering with fear. 

Hemlockstar’s eyes flashed. “Oh? I see…” His expression was thoughtful and then he smiled. “Maybe I should shed some light on Us then?” 

Before Sedgestrike could react, she was seized by white hot light as Hemlockstar approached her, still grinning. Her brain buzzed, burned, boiled with images, memories that were not her own, that flooded every synapse in her skull until it rattled. She saw cats… countless cats… littered in a foggy field, beaten and bloodied, gutted and gored, with a small white tomcat sitting in the midst of them, eyes wide with shock. Blood was splattered across his face as his pupils shuddered within his icy blue irises. Sedgestrike tried to squeeze her eyes shut and unsee the carnage, the grief… the loss… but she couldn’t. The stench alone could not be blinked away; it was putrid, awash with all manners of bodily fluids that fought to dominate the dismal air.

“The raiders almost took everything from me,” Hemlockstar whispered softly. “They killed many of us. So many. I… could’ve been one of the bodies laying in that field.” 

Sedgestrike saw a large, smoky gray tabby tomcat approach the white tom, offering a paw. The young tom fell into the large tabby, crying. 

“Murkstar guided me. He showed me what it meant to be a warrior and to serve the Place of Eternal Night. Without Them, the raiders would’ve continued to take lives… to lay waste to our Clanmates and pillage our land.” Hemlockstar was standing before her now, eyes forlorn. A soft smile spread on his handsome face. “Our destinies are not easy… but we do what we need to do in order for MarshClan to survive.” 

Sedgestrike couldn’t shake the sight of the battlefield, full of slain cats, from her head. “But you killed those kits…” 

“They would’ve grown to kill us, our Clanmates, several times over,” Hemlockstar hissed. “A Clan divided is doomed to fall.” 

Sedgestrike gazed up at Hemlockstar, breathing shakily as he returned her stare. “I don’t know what I must do… I’m scared,” she confessed. 

“Hush,” he whispered. “You just need to follow Whitestar’s lead for now, and listen to what Pikestar tells you. The path before you is clear, you just have to be willing to take the first step. You will be the one to save them all… to save them from themselves.” 

Sedgestrike trembled, shaking her head. “And then what?” she demanded, but he was gone. She stood, spinning on her heels, hopelessly trying to find him. “And then what?” she cried, closing her eyes. 

When she opened them again, she was sitting upright in her nest, breathing heavily. Her mind was reeling. Bringing a shaking paw to her face, a soft sob escaped her. All around her, the warriors were still pleasantly sleeping. Not one took notice of her turmoil or the fear saturating her pelt. She felt… alone. Her feathery tail brushed against the promise wreath tucked in her mossy nest, and her mind instantly went to Blueflower. Shaking, she sniffled and found the warrior in her nest. 

“Blueflower…” she whispered. Sedgestrike, blinded by fatigue, slowly made her way towards her from across the den. Head low, she nudged the she-cat gently. 

“Sedgestrike?” Blueflower’s eyes flickered open, looking like ethereal pools on her soft face. “What… what’s wrong?” 

Sedgestrike lowered herself to rest beside the warrior. “I… had a bad dream.” 

“You can rest beside me then,” Blueflower offered, yawning softly. 

Sighing with relief, Sedgestrike nestled against the other warrior. Her scent soothed her. With a smile, she pressed her nose into her chest and breathed another shaky sigh. When Blueflower draped her arm across Sedgestrike’s broad shoulder, she could feel her heart reduce to a puddle. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Blueflower asked in a whisper. 

Sedgestrike shook her head, already returning to sleep. “No… I just… want you.” 

When Sedgestrike woke up again, she felt her heart sink. She was back in the Place of Eternal Night. Her dread was rivaled by rage when she saw Pikestar nonchalantly grooming himself before her, purring softly. His spotted pelt was sleek and gleamed dully in the night, but his eyes gleamed bright, smug and amused. 

“Welcome back,” he mewed, laughter in his voice. 

Sedgestrike was silent as she sat. For once, she did not arrive in the marsh. Instead, she sat on brittle, frosted grass, which crunched stiffly under her weight. Surrounding them were tall pines with needles dusted white, casting long, narrow shadows. There was no sweet aroma of evergreens though, instead, her nostrils burned with the cold. Golden eyes blazing, she dug her claws into the cold earth as Pikestar smiled at her. 

“Why won’t you leave me alone?” Her voice was guttural. 

“I will, once you’ve done your job.” Pikestar’s quick rebuttal caused Sedgestrike’s pelt to prickle with annoyance. “Hemlockstar said he had gotten through to you… he would not be pleased to discover you proved him wrong.” 

“Just get on with it,” Sedgestrike spat. “Tell me what you want me to do.” 

Pikestar laughed, giddy. “Oh, splendid! So he did get through that thick skull of yours. I thought he would have to split it for sure.” 

Sedgestrike cringed at the grim remark, but tempered her disgust as she waited for him to speak. 

“As Whitestar already told you, there are traitors in MarshClan.” Pikestar’s eyes narrowed into slits. His fangs glinted as he spoke. “It’s up to you to help her find them… and dispose of them.” 

“Dispose of them?” Sedgestrike hissed in disbelief. “What do you mean?” 

Pikestar materialized beside her, chuckling sinisterly. “Oh, Sedgestrike, I relish your willful ignorance. You’ve known all along how your leader operates… you just didn’t wish to believe it.” 

“Wh-What are you saying?” Sedgestrike refused to acknowledge what he implied. If she let her head wrap around it, it would surely snap. 

“It’s best if I show, rather than tell. Seeing is believing, right?” An amused purr escaped him. 

Backing away, Sedgestrike gave a warning hiss. “You stay out of my head.” Her growl wavered with fear. 

“Oh, Sedgestrike… I’m already there.” 

White hot light returned, searing her vision and crackling in her mind as if a bolt of lightning was trapped in her skull. She tried to blink it away, but when she opened her eyes, she could only see the light, and it scorched her pupils until she had to choice but to brace herself until the pain that wracked her head ended. 

Finally, a cool breeze rustled through her fur. Sedgestrike slowly opened her eyes, finding herself standing in a familiar clearing, surrounded by pine trees. Ivy cast a verdant veil over the pine needles that littered the ground, and between the narrow vines blossomed tiny yellow flowers that shuddered in the wind. She was back in MarshClan. The sound of rushing water alerted her to the close proximity of the river border, but what drew her attention most of all was a distant caterwaul. 

In the distance, she spotted a pair of silhouettes jostling through the thicket of bracken, eyes blazing, with a wiry tabby in tow. Her heart began to pound when she recognized the protruding jaw of Grayjaw and the burly frame of Claytooth. Between them, the tabby tom was shoved and shouldered along, getting knocked back and forth like a pebble against the shore. However, the rage in his green eyes was unprecedented. 

“Vinestripe?” Sedgestrike breathed, eyes wide. 

Grayjaw knocked Vinestripe forward by his haunches, hissing. “Come on then! Step it out.” 

Vinestripe fell into the ivy as his hind legs buckled, growling. “Striking me won’t make me walk faster,” he spat, glaring up at the larger warrior. 

Grayjaw curled his lip, raising his paw as if to strike him again, but Claytooth intervened with a stern glare and deep snarl. “You’re stalling. Let’s hurry this up. I want to go home to my son.” 

Grudgingly, Grayjaw watched as Vinestripe rose to his paws. Sedgestrike continued to be an audience to the scene, skin crawling with unease. Her eyes glanced around the forest desperately for Pikestar. “Get me out of here,” she whispered. Her mind’s eye flickered with the grisly vision of Vinestripe a few moons ago: throat slit, gurgling for breath through bloody lips. 

As they jostled onward, Sedgestrike moved to get out of their way, only to discover her paws were stuck to the earth, as if ensnared by the ivy flourishing around her. She screwed her eyes shut as they drew closer, shoving and spitting, fearing they would surely see her. However, as the cats came upon her, they pushed by as if she were nothing more than dust in the wind. She craned her head to follow them as they approached the steep incline where the pine forest dropped to the river as a cliff. The three cats had their backs to Sedgestrike, all gazing over the edge in chilling silence. 

“This is where our escort ends,” Claytooth murmured. His voice broke the stillness of the air, reducing it to sharp shatters that cropped Sedgestrike’s ears painfully. 

The faint noise of claws clicking against the ground caused Sedgestrike’s gaze to flicker to their paws. She could see the glint of unsheathed claws from Grayjaw and Claytooth. Vinestripe, however, stood still, gazing down the gorge to the rushing water below. Though Sedgestrike could not see his face, she imagined him looking calm, almost resigned. 

“How do you expect me to cross the border from here?” Vinestripe asked. There was no wonder in his question; it was as if he already knew the answer. 

Sedgestrike’s blood turned to ice in her veins as Claytooth leaned in. “You won’t be crossing anything.” His growl was dark, brooding. 

“Don’t play dumb,” Grayjaw hissed. “I’m sure your little friends across the border already told you their stories. The ones that got away…” 

Vinestripe was silent, but he still yowled in pain when Grayjaw grappled at his shoulders, pulling him back and onto the ground roughly. The warrior spat and slashed up at his attacker, but Grayjaw did not budge. Vinestripe flailed and twisted like a severed lizard tail under Grayjaw’s grip, but the heavier warrior did not seem the least bit fatigued by his efforts. 

Sedgestrike rushed forward. “Let him go!” she snarled. “You monsters!” As she dove for Grayjaw, she fell through him, face-first onto the ground, clawing at nothing but the humid air. 

Glancing back, she saw Claytooth raise his paw, claws gleaming, eyes glowing with determination. 

“No!” Sedgestrike screeched, lunging again, only to fall through Claytooth and back onto the ground. She turned, gasping, forced to watch Claytooth rake his claws cleanly across Vinestripe’s throat. “In the name of the Order,” Claytooth growled. “And in honor of Whitestar!” 

The shrill wail that escaped Vinestripe’s lips was severed by a gurgle as blood spattered from the scarlet smile on his neck to freckle Claytooth’s and Grayjaw’s grim expressions. Blood bubbled at Vinestripe’s mouth, collecting at the corners before spilling onto the ivy, soaking the golden flowers between the vines, staining them scarlet. Sedgestrike’s jaw was held open by shock, locked in perpetual terror as Claytooth and Grayjaw stared at the Fallen, watching him convulse and gulp for his last breaths of air, his claws still searched in vain to claw at their faces. After he seized one last strangled breath, his body went limp, head tilting to face Sedgestrike. His expression remained frozen in rage, having fought to the bitter end. 

“I’ll get the rocks,” Grayjaw muttered. The warrior left as Claytooth began to clean his paws, licking at the blood with eyes half-shut. 

Sedgestrike tried to back away, but she was petrified. Vinestripe’s glazed-over gaze turned her to stone; the reflection of her expression in his dim pupils was frozen in shock. She remained entombed in the gruesome glimpse of the past, replaying it in her mind’s eye until she could only see the red of his life-blood spilling before her. 

“Make it stop!” she begged. “I’ve had enough! I don’t want to see this anymore!” Sedgestrike’s voice rose to an octave she did not know she possessed before now; it was shrill with disgust and ripe with fear. 

Pikestar’s voice came to her, wafting around her with the stench of death, Vinestripe’s death. “This is what you are meant to do,” he explained, giddy. “Instill order in the name of the Eternal Night.” 

“This isn’t order,” Sedgestrike hissed painfully, tearing her eyes away as Grayjaw roughly began shoving sizeable rocks down Vinestripe’s throat. The force and the width of the stones pushed at the dead cat’s jaws until a dull snapping noise sounded, breaking under the pressure, coming unhinged like a python’s. “This is carnage!” 

“It’s time you come to realize the price of your freedom. While you live your peaceful life, the other Paragons are engaged in a silent war fought in the shadows.” Pikestar materialized before Sedgestrike, eyes narrowed. Around him, the scene began to melt away, but Sedgestrike caught the final glimpse of the heinous murder: Vinestripe’s body being pushed off the ledge, dumped into the river, doomed to sink. His final resting place. 

“You will carry out Our will,” Pikestar hissed, glaring at her. “You will eliminate those that oppose Us.” 

Sedgestrike met his glare, bile rising from the back of her throat. She spat in disgust. “I’ll never obey you, or anyone in this forsaken place.” 

Pikestar sat back, smirking. “You will… because if you don’t, it’ll be your loved ones getting dumped into the river next.” A cruel chuckle escaped him. “There is no high road to take here. No matter what you choose, cats will die. Whether it is the filth that chose to rise against MarshClan or the ones you hold dear is up to you.” 

“If you touch any one of them, I’ll kill you!” Sedgestrike lunged, claws bared, only to swipe at the air above her. She was staring at the broad leaves composing roof of the warriors den, a warm breeze rustling to unveil a dark sky. 

She was awake.


	26. Sins of our Fathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"For the sins of your fathers you, though guiltless, must suffer."_ \- Horace, "Odes," III, 6, l. 1.

THE soft sound of snoring filled the den. Beside her, Blueflower was fast asleep, tucked against her, with her nose buried into Sedgestrike’s chest. For once, Blueflower’s angelic presence failed to quell her fears. Her breaths escaped her rapidly as Pikestar’s threat loomed over her like a dreadful shadow. To lose the ones she loved… or to lose the ones that dared to question the Order… the impending loss weighed heavy on her heart, but her spirit prompted her to rise. Getting to her paws, Sedgestrike knew that she could not ignore her destiny any longer. It was standing before her, monstrous, waiting to be realized. 

_I need some air,_ she thought. Leaving Blueflower, Sedgestrike carefully exited the den and set foot onto the moonbleached clearing within camp. To her surprise, waiting for her in the center of the clearing was Redleaf. The medicine cat’s yellow eyes glowed with expectations, as if he was waiting for her to emerge all along. 

Sedgestrike hesitated, expression souring. She was not keen on speaking with another member of the Order so soon after witnessing their malevolence. “What do you want?” she rumbled. 

“To speak with you,” Redleaf mewed candidly. “This may be the only chance I’ll get.” The stocky medicine cat slowly lumbered across the clearing, head low. He flicked his tail for Sedgestrike to follow. 

Eyeing him quizzically, she was baited by his cryptic words. “I’m listening,” she mewed warily, closing the distance between them, careful to keep her voice low as she followed him beyond the Fallen Cypress. They were going to Mother Lake.

Pushing through the thicket of marigold and reeds, they set foot on the shore that separated camp from Mother Lake. The sand was cool, untouched. Mother Lake was a beacon on par with the Great Cypress. When Marshstar first found the massive body of water many, many moons ago, he knew in his heart he found their home. Even now, as Sedgestrike gazed from the shore to the glittering surface of the lake, she felt at peace. It was a comforting feeling, like crawling into hernest after a long day of work, or getting groomed by someone she loved. Mother Lake instilled these feelings in all MarshClan cats. Sedgestrike sighed softly, allowing the calming aura to soothe her, until Redleaf’s voice broke her meditation. 

“Let me see your paws,” Redleaf ordered. His accusatory stare was fixated on her paws. 

“What?” Sedgestrike narrowed her eyes. Why was he acting like she did something wrong? 

Redleaf didn’t wait for permission, he lunged for her front paw, grappling it with his own to roughly turn the scarred palm up to the sky, for all the stars to see. Sedgestrike yanked her paw back with a hiss, only to pause when she saw disappointment clouding the medicine cat’s broad face. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Sedgestrike snapped, bringing her paw back, shuffling them self-consciously. She felt violated. Exposed. 

“I was hoping it was all a ruse or rumor… I was hoping you didn’t actually take the mark.” Redleaf bowed his head. His voice held a storm of emotion. 

“I had no choice,” Sedgestrike spat. “You should know. You’re one of them.” Why was he acting remorseful over this? Wasn’t he a part of the Order too? 

Redleaf cast her a baleful glare. “You don’t realize the consequences of your actions, do you?” 

Sedgestrike bristled. The last thing she wanted was to be scorned after being tortured by endless nightmares. “I haven’t slept well since this happened. I’m surrounded by cats that pledge allegiance to a higher power that wants to rid of StarClan… and as it turns out, those same cats are probably all murderers,” she rambled angrily. At this point, she was breaking. She didn’t care if this was a twisted ploy to see if she truly was loyal to the Order. She was done. 

Redleaf was silent, staring at the stars, musing. 

“Is that what you wanted to hear?” Sedgestrike scoffed, spitting. “Congratulations, you got what you wanted. You can go let Whitestar know how I really feel.” 

“Sedgestrike… If I was really loyal to Whitestar’s plans, I would’ve never made an attempt on your life back when you were in my charge, after the fall.” 

Sedgestrike took a step back, eyes wide. She felt her blood run cold as she remembered hacking up the mysterious white flowers. Boneset, Fernstream called them. “S-so you did try to kill me,” she realized, breathless. 

“Your mother nearly had my head for it.” Redleaf shook his head. “But I couldn’t bring myself to give you a high enough dosage to do it. I… I couldn’t kill you. All my life, I’ve wanted to save cats. I never thought the day would come where I’d have to kill one.” 

“You don’t have to kill me,” Sedgestrike mewed, feeling vulnerable. She really could have died that day. In an instant, her life would have been gone. She never realized just how fragile she was until now. “Why… why would you even want to?” 

“I’ve tried to explain to your mother since before you were born why—“

“The prophecy,” Sedgestrike hissed. 

Redleaf nodded. “The Place of Eternal Night came to me, whispering of a litter of kits that would come together to bring Their true power to fruition.” His yellow eyes were distant as the stared across Mother Lake. Sedgestrike could tell he reliving the past. “When I discovered that it would be my own apprentice… I was heartbroken. Fernstream showed such promise. She could’ve restored MarshClan back into the paws of StarClan… but instead, she ignored her calling and left her position as my apprentice to be mated with Shaleheart.” The bitterness in Redleaf’s tone was scathing, acidic. His face even puckered as if he sucked on a sour rind. “And now here you are, and your siblings, and I’m forced to countdown the moons until our whole way of life gets flipped into the abyss…” 

“So you tried to kill me to prevent the prophecy from happening, but you didn’t have the guts,” Sedgestrike scoffed, shaking her head. “Tch. You know what? You’re worse than Whitestar. At least she follows through with what she wants. You scorn my mother for not taking responsibility of her destiny, yet you can’t even shoulder it yourself!”

Redleaf winced but remained silent, chin lowering. 

“You said you want to save cats, yet you join the Order of the Destined Paragons. You serve the Place of Eternal Night. You refuted your calling just as much as my mother did!” Sedgestrike was livid. She doubled her size as every hair on her pelt bristled. Some feral instinct in her begged for her claws to come unsheathed and lay into the hypocritical medicine cat, but she ignored the impulse was a soft hiss. 

“You’re right,” Redleaf rasped, shutting his eyes. “I am just as much of a failure.” He was quiet for a moment before raising his chin again and staring into Sedgestrike. “But I am trying to make up for it now.”

Sedgestrike narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?” 

“You need to leave MarshClan, Sedgestrike. You and your siblings must go. If you stay, you’ll surely bring ruin to us.” Redleaf’s voice was growing hoarse with desperation. “Whitestar is close to discovering the truth. The Place of Eternal Night is growing impatient with me—it will not be long before They unveil the prophecy to Whitestar, if They haven’t already.”

“You mean… run away?” Sedgestrike felt her innards liquify with the thought of leaving her home, her friends, her family… Blueflower. She feared if she opened her mouth to speak, she would throw up, so she sat in shock. 

“It’s the only option. You can’t deliver MarshClan to the Eternal Night if you’re not here to do so.” Redleaf’s voice rose an octave, not with hope, no… He almost sounded delirious. “Start a new life—a free one!” 

“No!” Sedgestrike snapped, glaring at him. Once her initial shock dissipated, it was quickly replaced by outrage. “The Place of Eternal Night won’t stop until They get what They want. Leaving MarshClan would only seal their fate.” She curled her lip in disgust at Redleaf. “I might be the only one that knows what the Order has been doing that is willing to do something about it. I’m not going to take the easy way out. I’m not going to run from my destiny.” 

“So what?” Redleaf growled. “You wish to fulfill it?”

“I’m going to fight it!” Sedgestrike declared, rising to her paws. “If you weren’t such a coward, I’d be dead right now.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m meant to be here, you see? Me and my siblings.” 

Redleaf flattened his ears, growling softly. “It’s not like they’ll help you anyways. You’re alone, Sedgestrike.”

She smiled softly, lowering her gaze. “That’s fine. Unlike you, I’m not afraid. I can do this on my own.” 

Getting to his paws, Redleaf was breathing heavily, almost wheezing with disbelief. “Y-you’re mad!” he sputtered. “Don’t mistake your stubbornness for a strong will! Your pride will doom us all.” 

“We’ve been doomed, don’t you see?” Sedgestrike murmured ruefully. “The Eternal Night has only grown stronger. Cats like you come into power and give Them what They want. Don’t force your shame onto me. You are just as guilty.” 

As Sedgestrike moved to walk away, she heard Redleaf rustle to follow. Neither had more words to say. The damage was done, on both ends, and the cats established what they stood for. Redleaf wanted her gone, whether by death or departure. Sedgestrike, well, she was ready to fight. The battle had only just begun. She knew what she had to fight for, she knew her enemies. The only thing she did not know was where to start… 

By the time the two cats arrived back in camp, the first light of daybreak was shining. The indigo sky was stained with pink and pale blue, running like rivulets through thin, silver clouds to chase away the stars. Humidity cloistered the marsh, bringing out dewdrops and prompting cicadas to sing their song gleefully, knowing a hot day was on the horizon. Sedgestrike revelled in the first glimpse of morning. A new day, and with it would come the Blossom Festival. 

Ignoring Redleaf’s baleful glare as he retreated to the medicine den, Sedgestrike smiled. She refused to be quashed by Pikestar’s threat or Redleaf’s lament. This was her life, she was going to take charge of it. She would change MarshClan for the better, and hopefully… she would have Blueflower by her side.


	27. The Warrior Bold

WARMTH radiated from the sun, soaking the earth with a sultry shine that perforated the shadows to oblivion. The air hummed with life; birds sung their morning tune, sweet and soft, while dragonflies buzzed to the beat of the butterfly wings, for they danced in tandem across MarshClan’s grassy clearing. Sedgestrike sat in the grass, bathing in the glow of daybreak with a small smile, content. Her heart burned as bright as the sun today, for today MarshClan’s warriors would indulge in the festivities of the Blossom Festival; it was a celebration that lasted from sunhigh to moonhigh, for all to attend that so desired. The holiday came once during riverswell, and this would be the first time she could experience it to the fullest in her fourteen moons of living. Her terrors from the night before seemed distant now. She did not allow herself to think about the truth… that there were murderers in MarshClan. 

“Good morning,” Fernstream mewed. Her voice was muffled, and when Sedgestrike turned to greet her she saw her wreath in her mother’s jaws. Fernstream sat Sedgestrike’s wreath at her paws, smiling. “I didn’t see you in your nest. I wanted to make sure you didn’t forget this.” 

“How could I?” Sedgestrike mumbled, face hot. She carefully drug the wreath close to her by her paw, avoiding Fernstream’s stare. She had not spoken to her mother since she fought with Shaleheart, and it made her fur itch to be under her gaze.

“I can see how much you care for her,” Fernstream mewed gently, coming to sit beside Sedgestrike. “The way you look at her… it’s a very beautiful thing. I’m happy that you found someone.” 

“Thank you,” Sedgestrike mewed. Her tone was remorseful. “I wish Shaleheart felt the same.” 

“He does, my love, he does. He just… can’t come to realize it yet.” Fernstream sounded just as remorseful. “He has good intentions, they’re just misplaced.”

“That’s putting it gently…” Sedgestrike grumbled.

“He gets discouraged easily, but he’s always wanted the best for you.” Fernstream licked Sedgestrike’s ear comfortingly. “He will always be your father, and not every father is perfect. Just give him time.” 

Soothed by her mother’s gentle grooming, Sedgestrike nodded. “Okay,” she muttered. 

“Good luck today,” Fernstream purred. 

“Wait!” Sedgestrike piped up as her mother rose to walk away. She felt her words catch in her throat as her mother hesitated. Should she tell her about what Redleaf said? Her voice felt garbled as she spoke, for she continued to wrestle with herself. “Redleaf… I… He…” 

Fernstream’s ears flattened. “We can discuss that later,” she mewed tersely. “Now is not the time.”

The aromatic scent of fresh-kill alerted Sedgestrike to the morning hunting party’s return. Only marsh rabbit and duck would be feasted on today, as per tradition. The meatiest, most delightful delicacies within their territory would be enjoyed by all thanks to the honored efforts of the specially chosen hunters. Sedgestrike’s mouth watered at the thought of sinking her fangs into rich rabbit meat. Warriors began to collect around her, also hungry for the celebratory meal. 

“MarshClan, gather!” Whitestar yowled from her perch atop Fallen Cypress. Sedgestrike watched as her leader emerged from the cavernous log of the hollowed out cypress. For once, she seemed cheery. Her face was wrinkled with a genuine smile, and her eyes shone without their usual glare. After the Clan assembled, she made her announcement. “Today, we come together to celebrate the Blossom Festival.” 

Cheers erupted from the crowd, and Whitestar patiently waited for their crows and laughs to dissipate. Sedgestrike joined in, hooting and hollering with the best of them. She received a playful nudge, and she smiled once she noticed Ospreyflight joined her. Her friend was also smiling, but she had a reserved flicker in her eye. She did not join in on the cheering. 

“It’s been a long, dry rivernarrow, but the rains and warmth have returned, and the plentiful moons of riverswell have blessed us with abundance. Tonight is the second full moon of riverswell—so today, we view the Blossom Festival together.” Whitestar smiled as she spoke, and it bled into her words, staining them with a saccharine flavor. “Our sentinels will have a holiday standdown during this sacred time, but border patrols will remain; those that did not wish to participate in the festival have already volunteered for the watch, and will remain behind. Queens and their kits, elders, apprentices, and non-participants shall remain in camp and revel in their own festivities.” 

Sedgestrike grimaced. She remembered past Blossom Festival’s bitterly; she would stay behind and play a few games of moss ball, eat leftover duck or rabbit, and listen to elders tell stories about Blossom Festivals passed and the history of the holiday itself. She only remembered bits and pieces of the story… something about forbidden love and the power of trust. That syrupy sweet kind of tale that only furballs liked. It was obnoxiously dull, and most of the warriors just slept or gossiped the rest of the day. The apprentices would usually make silly accessories out of the colorful duck feathers until they got bored and started roughhousing. She was happy to not have to stay behind this time around. This time, she would get to celebrate the real festival. 

She could feel anticipation emanate around her, charging the atmosphere with electricity that sparked against her pelt. Sedgestrike scanned the crowd surrounding her, realizing she towered over most of the surrounding cats. Her face grew hot; she never realized how much she grew since becoming a warrior until now. Finding the blue-gray fur she sought after, her heart melted and she dug her claws into the grass with excitement. Today was the day… 

“Warriors participating in the Blossom Festival, assemble by the sawgrass and we will depart north. Please do not dally, we have a hike ahead of us.” Whitestar finished her announcement with a quick nod. Leaping from the log, she made her way for the sawgrass. 

Sedgestrike watched as the other warriors followed Whitestar. Her heart was put at ease when she saw Blueflower was among them still. She rose to her paws, ready to depart, but hesitated when she noticed Ospreyflight did not budge. 

“You’re not coming?” Sedgestrike asked, staring at Ospreyflight with concern. “Do you feel ill?”

Ospreyflight winced, slowly shaking her head. “No… I want to stay behind.” 

Sedgestrike’s eyes widened. “But why?” Her heart sank when Ospreyflight shrugged, eyes downcast. 

“I don’t know… I just don’t have a reason to go.” 

“What do you mean? We can celebrate together! It’ll be fun.” 

Ospreyflight smirked. “But you’ll have Blueflower. Wouldn’t you want to spend the day with her?”

Sedgestrike hesitated, glancing away from her friend. She felt guilty. All this time she thought she could juggle between the two; she never realized that Ospreyflight may feel left out. “But that shouldn’t matter; you can have fun with other cats too. Maybe even find… you know… a mate?” 

Realizing she never talked to her friend much about romance, she felt even more guilty. She didn’t even know what Ospreyflight liked, or who. Her whiskers drooped. 

Ospreyflight laughed softly. “That’s the thing… I… I don’t know if I want a mate.”

“You never know…” Sedgestrike mewed, trying to be hopeful. “You might find someone you like, and it could build to—-“ 

“I don’t think you understand,” Ospreyflight mewed, sighing softly. “I don’t think I want a mate… ever.” 

Perplexed, Sedgestrike narrowed her eyes. “You want to be alone?” 

“No—no… it’s just… Ahhh…” Ospreyflight screwed her eyes shut, shaking her head with a grumble. Sedgestrike felt worse for not understanding. “I don’t think I have those feelings…” 

“What? Like… love?” 

Ospreyflight hesitated. “No, I feel love.” She smiled softly. “I feel love, just not the kind that’s celebrated during the Blossom Festival.” 

Sedgestrike’s eyes widened, a firefly blinking to life in her head. “Ohhhhh…” She shuffled her paws awkwardly. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know.” 

Ospreyflight shrugged again. “It’s not your fault. I never said anything. I just… didn’t know how to explain it.” 

“That’s okay.” 

Her friend smirked, almost apologetically. “Is that… weird?” 

“No! No… not at all.” Sedgestrike smiled encouragingly. “There’s all sorts of love. Just because you feel one and not the other doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. It just means you were born to care for cats in a different way.” 

Ospreyflight sighed, sounding relieved. “Thanks, Sedgestrike,” she murmured. 

She nodded. “Of course! You can tell me anything.” Hesitating, she gazed at her friend curiously. “Uhm… if you don’t mind my asking… how did you know?” 

Ospreyflight’s expression was thoughtful, and then she smiled whimsically. “I don’t know—I guess it just clicked.” She shrugged bashfully. “I realized if I ever felt that kind of love for anyone, it would’ve been you.” 

Taken back, Sedgestrike felt her face grow hot as her friend gazed tenderly, almost shyly at her. She had never seen Ospreyflight so open or honest until now. She realized in that moment that she loved her, she loved their friendship and the memories they shared. Purring, she touched her head to Ospreyflight’s. “I love you,” she murmured. 

Ospreyflight returned the purr. “I love you too.” She butted her head against Sedgestrike’s playfully. “Go on and have fun, and good luck, you furball.” 

Sedgestrike laughed softly. “I need all the luck I can get.” 

She hurried and picked up her wreath, waving her tail in farewell to her friend as she rushed to join the rest of the warriors preparing to leave. As she looked back, she saw as Ospreyflight got rushed by Magnoliakit and Hawthornkit, probably for a game of moss ball. Her heart warmed when her friend winked her way, her final farewell, before she ran off to entertain the kits. 

As Sedgestrike joined the gathered warriors, wreath in tow, she was given encouraging glances and amorous smirks. Few speculated who the wreath was intended for; in their eyes, Sedgestrike could see they knew. She held her head high, not allowing her confidence to wither as the memory of her father’s scorn remained fresh in her mind. She tried to replace his disappointment with Batface’s reassurance or Fernstream’s comfort, but it still stung. Quickly, she flicked her chin up, swinging the wreath up and over her head, turning it into a necklace. 

“Warriors, let us embark on the trail blazed by our ancestors! Today, we will revel in our love for our Clanmates, riverswell’s bounty, and StarClan!” Whitestar yowled, leading the warriors into the thicket of sawgrass and cane. 

Cheers erupted from the gathered cats. Sedgestrike could not help but narrow her eyes as Whitestar proclaimed love for StarClan. She lied so effortlessly. She gazed around at the gathered cats, noting the paragons among them, cheering as loudly as any other. She began to wonder how many of them killed a Fallen. It made her skin crawl. 

As they filtered through the wall of grasses as a collective, Sedgestrike stepped carefully, keeping to the rear so she may think in peace. Despite her boundless joy and anticipation for the Blossom Festival, she realized she could not truly celebrate while such a burden stormed overhead. The only way she could discover the truth of the Order’s endgame and stop Whitestar and the Place of Eternal Night was to earn their trust. Stepping through the marsh, she noticed the murky water and likened it to her fate and the fate of MarshClan. Whatever lurked in the future was shrouded in a veil of darkness, impermeable and mysterious. 

Suddenly, a low, melodious rumble erupted from one of the gathered cats. Sedgestrike looked up to see Grayjaw humming a tune. It sounded vaguely familiar. Grayjaw walked among them now, eyes bright and smile broad, but Sedgestrike could only look at him and see a bloodied, cold face that smirked over Vinestripe’s corpse. The sound of the rushing river greeted the mass of cats as they left the marsh and stepped onto the bank. Instead of drowning out the warrior’s hum, Sedgestrike noticed that it complimented him, seemingly rumbling with his tune. 

Despite her disgust, when Grayjaw continued to hum, Sedgestrike was drawn to the rasping melody of his voice. The haze of mist that rose from the fast-flowing water enshrouded the traveling cats as they walked upriver; the sun shone through the cloud, making it burn silver against the bodies that pushed through. Before long, more, and more of the gathered warriors joined him, humming a tune that erupted into a chorus of song:

When I was a young tom,   
maybe seven moons old,  
I fell for the fairest of Queens. 

She had the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen,   
And she mated with a warrior bold.   
I took to the river, I took to the trees,  
But I never found what I thought she’d need. 

When I was a young tom,   
Maybe twelve moons old.   
I loved the fairest of Queens.   
She had the softest fur I’ve ever seen,   
And hated her warrior bold.  
I took to the caves, I took to the seas,   
But I never found what I thought she’d need. 

When I was a young tom,  
Maybe twenty moons old,   
I lost the fairest of Queens.   
She had the purest spirit I’d ever seen,   
Broken by her warrior bold.   
I realized I never found what I thought she’d need,   
For all that she needed was all I could be. 

When I was a dying tom,  
Maybe ninety moons old,   
I dreamt of the fairest of Queens.   
She had the brightest glow I’d ever seen,   
And she was free of her warrior bold.   
She told me I was always what she thought she’d need,   
But her soul was already sold. 

I’m not young tom, nor am I old,   
But I pray you heed this story of ole.   
No matter the strength that love may be,  
It withers unless it is told.   
You could be the one that they truly need,   
Don’t lose to the warrior bold. 

Don’t lose to the warrior bold. 

The warrior bold. 

By the time the song finished, Sedgestrike caught the tune and was singing along as well. The music was contagious, wafting between the cats like embers, bringing light to their eyes. She felt full of glee, so much so that she no longer had room for her worries within. They were expelled with each lyric.


	28. Bittersweet Symphony

THE warriors continued to hum as they traveled north, welcomed by a cool breeze. They no longer walked through the mists of the marsh, instead they trekked through a grassy field speckled with trees and swathes of wildflowers. Yellow bled to orange to red to purple, coloring the landscape so brightly, Sedgestrike was left squinting. The earthy tones of the marshland were nonexistent here. Another draft carried with it the faint scent of citrus coupled with the aroma of honey. Sedgestrike’s lips twitched as she tasted the sweetness in the air. Though they walked alongside the river that hugged her homeland, as she ventured up against the current, she was greeted by a land unseen. A mystery world that birthed grandiose hardwood trees she had never laid eyes on before and housed strange scents of mysterious flowers she did not recognize.

The rushing river grew more violent the further north they traveled, and broader. Sedgestrike gazed across its length, wondering if it were possible for any cat to have the strength to swim across. The other side of the river mirrored hers, flanked by fields of wildflowers and sparse hardwoods. To think, there was a whole other side MarshClan had not seen. 

The sun neared the horizon, descending sluggishly, not wanting to surrender its golden shine; the clouds were cloaked in purple and the birds took shelter in the trees, knowing the sun no longer had the strength to warm their wings. The sun’s time was waning, its reign would soon end. 

“This is where we leave the river,” announced Whitestar. “Keep together. This land is not ours. We must keep to the path carved by our ancestors. Now is not the time to go astray.” 

Whitestar led the MarshClan cats away from the river. Silence washed over them as the familiar sound of rushing water faded, and they waded through an unfamiliar field, sharing expressions of uncertainty and wonder. Even those that made the journey before were humbled by the distance from homeland. The ground beneath them consisted of tightly packed earth, moist and rich, void of the pungent perfume of peat or the squishy structure of mud. Sedgestrike could dig her toes into the ground without them coming up stuck together. 

“It’s strange isn’t it?” Yewbranch mewed breathlessly. Sedgestrike glances sideways, seeing her sister hungrily drinking in their surrounded with wonder in her verdant eyes. “I never wondered what was outside MarshClan. I never thought there was more.” 

Sedgestrike said nothing. She stared ahead, unable to find the words to properly describe her feelings. It felt like moons since Yewbranch last spoke to her. When did she even come to walk beside her?

“To think,” she continued carefully, “there could be many more worlds besides ours that we’ve never thought of, or are capable of thinking of.” 

Sedgestrike’s mind immediately went to the Place of Eternal Night. She wondered what Yewbranch would make of that world. She wondered if she already knew. She prayed that she never would. 

“It makes me feel small,” Yewbranch whispered. She was not gazing at their surroundings anymore. Instead, Sedgestrike followed her sister’s eyes and found Blackhawk, trouncing proudly alongside Mothfur and Fogspots. “But also grateful. In a world so big and so strange, I was lucky enough to be surrounded by cats that love me. Some are not so lucky.”

Sedgestrike opened her mouth, but words failed her. She resigned to folding her ears in frustration, walking alongside Yewbranch with a remorseful frown. Her sister’s words snuck into her chest, slow and smooth and sweet like amber, trapping her heart and petrifying it in a golden prism of goodness that made it so heavy, and so, so full. 

“I guess… what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry.” Yewbranch’s murmur was a touch above a whisper. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I shouldn’t have left you. I was just scared.” 

“I don’t want your apology. I just want you to believe me,” Sedgestrike asserted. Now that Yewbranch was so close, she could not ignore nor forget how much she wanted her sister back. 

“I don’t know what to believe, Sedgestrike,” Yewbranch admitted. “I just know that I miss you.” 

Sedgestrike lowered her chin. So much was unveiled to her since the night she first spoke of the prophecy to her siblings. Their destiny only grew more swollen and contorted, like tree roots engorged with water, twisted and full, shoved deep beneath the earth, where the darkness and dirt made everything unclear. “I have so much more to say. What’s the point of having you back if I can’t share my thoughts with you?” 

It was Yewbranch’s turn to be silent. The soft thudding of paws against the earth rapped at Sedgestrike’s ears, goading more annoying thoughts to usher into her head. The wreath around her neck felt heavy, and her head hung lower. 

Before their conversation could continue, the gathered cats slowed to a stop. Sedgestrike peered over the heads of the cats before her, looking beyond the hill they stood upon. Her eyes widened as she gazed across a landscape laden with verdant rivulets neatly streaking across the hills in uniform stripes, separated by naked earth. 

“MarshClan,” Whitestar addressed the others proudly. “Welcome to the orange groves.”

Descending upon the grove, MarshClan crowded between tall, full trees; each cat's expression was that of awe, but none more so than Sedgestrike. Orange blossoms bloomed, full and white, filling the air with a sweet aroma that soaked into Sedgestrike’s dark brown fur, intoxicating her with its perfume. The smells of citrus blended with the richness of pollen, which wafted through along the tail of a breeze in a haze of gold. Tantalizing honey dripped from the combs clinging to the surrounding maple trees that hugged the outskirts of the orange grove, crusting against the bark like saccharine frost. Sedgestrike never knew the place of the Blossom Festival would be so impossibly beautiful.

As the cats shuffled deeper into the grove, bees hummed around, a lulling tune that was complimented by gentle birdsong. Sedgestrike walked with the others down a narrow aisle wedged between the orange trees; plump citrus fruits sagged on their branches, causing them to droop. Some oranges littered the verdant grass, having burst upon impact, the earth was stained with sticky sweetness and sweet-smelling flesh. White blossoms unfurled all around them, welcoming the MarshClan cats with broad petals that beckoned them closer. 

Whitestar found her place in the heart of the orange grove, where a grassy clearing was just wide enough to host the crowd. “On behalf of our ancestors, I welcome you to the orange groves, home of our sacred Blossom Festival. Please, enjoy the spoils of this sacred land, but take only what you will eat, nothing more. To waste these treasures is a sin.” 

An excited murmur bubbled from the masses. Sedgestrike found herself pining for a taste of the honeycomb nearby. 

“Let us prepare for the festivities!” Whitestar cheered. “Traditionally, she-cats would fetch the water and toms would take to the trees and harvest the honeycomb.” Whitestar shrugged. “Do what task you please, so long as it gets done before nightfall. We all need to be together before we begin evening proposals.” 

As the crowd began to disperse, Sedgestrike could feel Yewbranch lingering by her side. Sedgestrike sighed, pressing against her sister. “You don’t have to decide now. Just… promise you will eventually make a decision. Don’t leave me to wonder.” 

Yewbranch’s lips trembled, and Sedgestrike was pained to see the hurt in her sister’s eyes. They held one another’s gaze for what felt like eternity before Palemist and Gingerstep approached them. 

“Yewbranch,” Palemist beckoned. “Come help us get water.” Her icy blue eyes fell on Sedgestrike, narrowing at the sight of her promise wreath. Sedgestrike couldn’t read the other she-cat’s expression, but she didn’t like the way she was staring. 

Yewbranch offered Sedgestrike a small smile before joining Palemist. Gingerstep lingered for a moment longer, giving Sedgestrike an apologetic smile. “You can come with us, if you want,” she added sheepishly.

“No thanks,” Sedgestrike replies stiffly, watching Palemist and her sister leave with a painful twinge in her heart. “I’ll, uh, go get the honey.” 

Awkwardly, she went off on her own, backtracking on the path took to reach the clearing. The dust still felt warm under her toes from the day’s sunlight. There was just enough shade to reduce the waning glow of the sun to scarlet blotches that contoured Sedgestrike’s features. She could hear voices coming from ahead, and she immediately began to bristle. 

“This Blossom Festival is a bust.” It was Spiderfang. His voice always held a rind of humor in it that refused to be peeled. “All the she-cats are so subpar.”

“Don’t you have a mate?” Rumbled Longscar. Unlike Spiderfang, Longscar’s voice sounded like he hadn’t laughed in moons. Sedgestrike could see the dark gray tabby stalking slowly alongside Spiderfang, tail swaying lazily. “I thought you came out of obligation.” 

“Sure, sure, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have any fun. Any of these she-cats would be lucky to have me!” A chuckle escaped him, but Sedgestrike knew he was serious. She rolled her eyes. 

“What Juniperheart doesn’t know won’t hurt her, I suppose,” Longscar agreed, sounding bored.

“There’s always Palemist.” Excitement oozed from Spiderfang’s tongue. Sedgestrike wondered if he was drooling. “Now that’s a she-cat.”

“Oh, please, that prude? I think she just shows up to these things to see how many proposals she can wrack up before she shrivels up in the elders den.” Longscar’s scathing scoff could cut through boulders. 

“Aha! You only say that because she turned you down two festivals ago.” 

Sedgestrike smiled at the revelation. She took pleasure in Longscar’s disappointment. It was well-deserved as far as she was concerned. He was the most disagreeable cat in all of MarshClan. 

“Shut up!” Longscar growled. 

Spiderfang cackled mockingly. “Don’t worry, I’m sure your luck will turn out this year.” 

Longscar was quiet for awhile, and Sedgestrike strained her ears to listen. She was so wrapped up in making her own promise wreath, she did not even realize Longscar took the time to make one as well. She wrinkled her nose at the thought of the warrior being with anyone. Who could find pleasure in such serious company? A rock was more entertaining, and more softhearted too.

“You think I should go through with it?” Longscar mewed at last. 

“Yeah! She will be grateful to get a tom like you. She might be a little feisty—too much so for my taste—but she’s a smart match. Much smarter than Egretsong.”

“Yeah…” For some reason, Longscar did not sound convinced. Sedgestrike suspected that whoever was receiving Longscar’s wreath was not his first choice.

She felt a pang of sympathy for Egretsong as she trailed behind the two tomcats. The warrior remained back in camp, harboring vicious scars that reduced her once sunshine gold eyes to milky, blind orbs. Though Sedgestrike thought the warrior was as beautiful as before, many were put off by her permanently maimed expression, so much so that she refused to come to the Blossom Festival, fearing rejection. 

The cause of her scars… the Fallen. Before, Sedgestrike was outraged by their violence. But now that she knew the truth, that they were not truly banished after their trials, but executed in secret, Sedgestrike could understand why they would make such a drastic attempt at escape. Had Egretsong not been blinded, Scorchface and possibly her accomplice, Minnowtail, would’ve faced certain death. Gazing ahead, Sedgestrike began to wonder how many casualties Spiderfang and Longscar were responsible for. How much blood was on their paws? 

Suddenly, a warm breeze fluttered from behind Sedgestrike, and she stiffened. The two cats that were upwind caught her scent almost immediately, and Sedgestrike soon found herself under each of their glares.

“Ah! Well, well, look who’s come to join us?” Spiderfang greeted excitedly. “Come, come! Catch up now. Don’t leave us waiting.” 

Sedgestrike hurried obediently, feeling like a kit caught outside the nursery. Longscar’s glare was harsh enough to singe her pelt. Now that she was close, she got a good look at the wreath draped around his neck; it was thin and neat, stripped of its ivy leaves and reduced to a tight, green ring. 

“How long have you been behind us?” Longscar growled. 

Sedgestrike smiled innocently. “Not too long. I only just caught up!”

“Well, I’m glad you did! The more the merrier, right? We can harvest this honey and get on our way licketysplit!” Spiderfang laughed whimsically. 

Sedgestrike eyed Spiderfang uneasily. He smiled too much. She never knew what he was really thinking. At least she never had to guess whether Longscar liked her or not. 

“I’m glad you’ll have me,” Sedgestrike mewed politely to her deputy, ignoring Longscar’s perpetual glare. 

“I see you whipped up that wreath good,” Spiderfang observed gushingly. “It looks splendid! I assume it’s still for Blueflower?”

“Yes,” Sedgestrike answered stiffly. “It is.” She did not forget Spiderfang’s reaction prior. 

Longscar growled, “I suppose Batface taught you how to make it?” 

“He did.” Sedgestrike kept her answers short as she walked between the two of them. Their drastically different personalities crashed against her like ferocious waves. It would not be long before she was weathered down by the break. 

“I bet she will be thrilled! You two are close. I only figured it was a matter of time,” Spiderfang mused. 

“She’s hung around you like a vulture circling a piece of carrion,” Longscar added critically. 

Sedgestrike bristled. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Oh, Longscar! You and your silly, unimagined comparisons.” Spiderfang twittered breezily. His amber eyes held a warning. “Don’t mind him, Sedgestrike. He’s just tired and cranky from the journey.”

“Good excuse,” Sedgestrike growled. “Doesn’t excuse him from being a prick though.” 

Longscar grunted, eyeing her as if she really were a piece of carrion, some rotten, stinking flesh. 

Spiderfang sighed with relief when they came upon a maple tree. Nestled between the trunk and a low-hanging branch was a hive glistening gold with honey. Sedgestrike’s mouth watered at the sight. She only got the pleasure of tasting honey once, when her throat was rendered raw by a bout of whitecough. She never forgot its sweetness. 

“Who wants to go first?” Spiderfang chirped. 

Longscar did not seem inclined to do anything but glare at Sedgestrike for eternity. 

Sedgestrike kicked the grass sheepishly. “I’ve actually… never harvested any.” 

Spiderfang perked up. “Okay! That’s fine. Watch the master.” He sprung onto the tree trunk without hesitation, squirming up its side like a small, black squirrel. 

With their deputy gone, Sedgestrike wasted no time in turning on Longscar. She met his glare defiantly. “What’s your problem?” she demanded. 

“My problem is you, Sedgestrike,” he growled. 

The scratching of Spiderfang crawling up the tree became louder the higher he scrambled. 

“What did I ever do to you?”

“You sneak around. You snap on your Clanmates. You never seem to sleep. What’s keeping you up at night, huh? What’s eating you?”

Sedgestrike rolled her eyes. “Why do you care? Don’t you have anything better to do than stalk me?” 

“I protect my Clan. I protect my Clan from shifty cats like you.”

A loud, buzzing sound arose from the treetops as Spiderfang scrabbles closer to the hive. The buzz was so continuous, Sedgestrike felt it in her brain. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not hiding anything,” she rebuked. Inside, however, her body was in turmoil. Does he know? she fretted. What has he seen? What has he heard? 

Longscar’s breath was hot on her now, he was leaning in on her. “The night I caught you with Blueflower. You were out all night. What were you discussing?”

“Nothing! I went out on my own to try and watch the execution. I got lost. She found me.”

“You snuck out with your siblings and Ospreypaw one night. When you all returned, Mudpaw was never the same. What did you say that disturbed him so?” 

“I don’t know what night you’re talking about. My siblings and I would sneak out all the time,” she replied sardonically. Her fur was beginning to bristle. Why were the bees buzzing so loudly? Her ears began to twitch. 

“Mudpaw should’ve been the honor graduate. Not you,” Longscar hissed. “He was perfect for it, but you stole the opportunity from him when you let Toadpaw die!” 

“I didn’t—“ 

Before she could protest, the hive hit the ground with a sopping thud. Gold oozed from the cracks that formed upon impact, glistening and gushing as it soaked the earth. Bees burst from the combs in a buzzing black cloud; the air reverberated with their rage. 

Spiderfang lept down with a wide grin from the treetops. “Grab a comb and run!” howled, thrilled by the hum of chaos before them. 

Sedgestrike did not need to be told twice. She grabbed a golden chunk from the hive and ran faster than she ever did before, knowing that Longscar would be right behind her. It seemed he had been for the longest time.


	29. Catalyst

ARRIVING back at the festival grounds, Sedgestrike was breathless. The honey that pooled on her tongue was so sweet that it began to sting, eating at the bristles on her palette and reducing them to a supple mesh. She could feel the sticky rivulets trickle down her chin and neck, collecting in golden dewdrops on her ivy wreath. Sedgestrike wasted no time in dropping the honeycomb on its designated pile, which looked like a mountain of glistening gold in the center of the festival grounds. 

Sedgestrike took a step back to revere the collection of golden goodness, realizing her paws squished against a cushiony blanket of leaves. Her eyes widened when she bent down to inhale the strange plant; being so overwhelmed by the saccharine scent of honey, she did not even notice the rich aroma of catmint until it was too late. Her senses were swallowed by a warm haze, dulling them. Her burgeoning muscles were reduced to string, and her sharp eyes melted into pools. Sedgestrike felt all her thoughts and worries go numb. In delight, she circled the mountain of gold, wondering—faintly—when clouds descended beneath her paws. She curled her toes, relishing the fluffy texture. Is this how birds feel when they soared through the sky? Sedgestrike couldn’t resist collapsing onto the clouds catmint, purring loudly with joy. 

“Oi! Sedgestrike!” The bellowing voice that beckoned her felt far, far away. 

“Sedgestrike!” 

Suddenly, she was yanked from the cloud she was floating on. Crashing back to earth, her spiraling vision circled into clarity, and she was staring up at a protruding jaw that showcased a row of yellowed snaggleteeth. 

“Grayjaw?” she mewed in confusion. Her voice sounded distant still, airy, like she was speaking from her head instead of her throat. 

The warrior guffawed into her face. His wheezing laugh was coupled with a hearty pat on the back from his big paw. “You should save some catmint for the rest of us,” Grayjaw joked. “Especially if you can’t handle it too good.” 

“The… catmint?” Sedgestrike glanced behind her, seeing a ring of rich green surrounding the pile of honeycomb. Her face burned hot. “Shit. I bet I looked like a fool.” 

“It’s okay. We’re grateful for the laugh.” Grayjaw rose his chin towards the crowd of MarshClan cats snickering at her like a flock of twittering birds. “Maybe take a break for a bit? It won’t be long before the proposals begin.” 

Sedgestrike nodded, her senses slowly coming back to her. Her mouth felt like she swallowed sand. “I need a drink…” she muttered absently, much to Grayjaw’s amusement. The proposals. Her heart fluttered wildly. It wouldn’t be long before she would ask Blueflower to be her mate. 

“There’s some wet moss yonder that will get you right,” Grayjaw pointed out, struggling to sustain another chuckle. 

Sedgestrike glanced around, finding the soaked moss stash nestled in the shade of an orange tree. “Thanks…” She noticed the wreath snug around his thick neck and quirked a brow. The craftsmanship was questionable. Grayjaw’s wreath was sewn together by tangles rather than actual weaves and tiny burrs collected within the chord. 

“You like?” Grayjaw purred, catching her staring. “I thought the burrs would be a good symbol for my strength.” 

Sedgestrike smiled weakly, nodding. “Yeah, sure, looks, uh, very creative.” It was hard to imagine Grayjaw proposing to anyone. The image of his chin covered in Vinestripe’s blood flickered in her head. She pushed the thought away before her fear began to seep through her fur. “I’ll see you around.”

Stiffly, she walked away from Grayjaw to sit in the cool shade with a sigh. The fresh moss smelled earthy, a comforting contrast to the overpowering perfume of catmint and honey. She lapped at the droplets of water that shivered at the shaggy, green surface of the moss, listening to the laughter and chatter surrounding her. 

She turned to see Palemist monopolizing the conversation while Yewbranch and Gingerstep rested idly, smiling and nodding while lapping at their clusters of honeycomb in turn. Longscar was helping himself to a collection of mice, gorging himself viciously, nearly swallowing fresh-kill whole like a python. Fogspots and Dewpelt were sharing tongues beneath another orange tree, their bodies pressed close. Sedgestrike guessed they came to the festival to renew their vows. She remembered Fernstream telling her as a kit that mated pairs would often attend the festival to relive their proposal and reinvigorate their bond; it was not a necessary ritual, but one that some indulged in nonetheless. As long as she had been alive, she never saw her parents partake in the vow renewals. 

A gaggle of warriors were loudly swapping stories, Grayjaw had joined them, and his laugh was loudest among the rest. Spiderfang was animatedly telling a story to them that caused Sandthroat to nearly double over in laughter, leaning into a disgruntled Blackhawk. Even Zinniablossom was laughing, though whatever Spiderfang was saying was shocking enough to make her eyes bulge beforehand. The only one that appeared unamused was Mothfur; he looked like he swallowed bile. 

Nearby, Littlebrook, Blueflower, and Whitestar were taking a nap. The closeness of her leader to Blueflower made Sedgestrike feel uneasy; after all, she knew what Whitestar was capable of. However, Sedgestrike was surprised by the look of Whitestar’s sleeping face; she looked peaceful and much younger without her usual glare withering her expression. She wondered what kind of cat her leader was before to aligned with the Place of Eternal Night. Was she the kind of cat that had that serene face all the time? Sedgestrike remembered Whitestar’s sister, Jasminefur, remarking how much she had changed. For a heartbeat, Sedgestrike almost mourned for the she-cat that was lost. Then she remembered the atrocities committed under Whitestar’s command and thought better of it. Glaring at her leader from afar, she almost forgot to fix her expression when Whitestar’s eyes opened. Her leader rose, staring across the clearing, directly at Sedgestrike before moving to groom her tousled white fur. Sedgestrike stiffened. Did her leader sense her stare? 

Shuffling her paws nervously, she decided not to stare at Whitestar anymore, even when her leader moved to the center of the clearing to make an announcement. “Sunset has arrived!” Whitestar’s voice rose above the clamor of festivities, which promptly ground to a halt. “As this hallowed day ends, together we will take comfort beneath the stars. Our ancestors will soon be an audience to the proposals you have prepared for. I pray StarClan and your loved ones accept your desires tonight.”

Anticipation welled in Sedgestrike’s belly. This was it. As the clearing darkened into a deep scarlet, she knew the time for proposing had come. On the cusp of sunset, it was to be done, so that StarClan could witness the marriage of Their earthly subjects and endow Their blessing. Supposedly, if StarClan did not favor the coupling, They would intervene. Sedgestrike never heard of that happening for real, but it did not stop her from worrying about an intervention. Everything had to be perfect. Then, with fright, she wondered if the Place of Eternal Night would come between her and Blueflower. Sedgestrike’s heart took off from her chest, fleeing out of sight as her fears grew. Get it together, she told herself. Everything will be fine. 

Around her, cats were breaking off from their friend groups, some more hesitantly than others. She could see, with amusement, that both Sandthroat and Grayjaw--wearing equally shabby wreaths--were making their way towards Palemist, much to the she-cat’s dismay. 

It was Blackhawk that caught her eye next; his thick black mane enshrouding a bright green wreath made of something other than ivy; it was eye-catching to say the least. It did not surprise Sedgestrike in the slightest when the warrior approached her sister. Her heart swelled with emotion when she saw the polite shock in Yewbranch’s bright green eyes followed soon by a flush of adoration and glee. Blackhawk was an annoying apprentice, but Sedgestrike knew he always treated her sister well. There was a flicker of guilt in her when she noticed a small but deep scar gnarled against his jaw. Sedgestrike was the one that gave the scar to him during their final test, and she never realized it stuck to his mug until now. 

Looking away before guilt ate at her anymore, she noticed Longscar making his way across the clearing and her blood was set to boil. For once, he was not glaring in her direction, instead, his dark gray face was twisted with a mix of conflicting emotions. His amber eyes were fixed on Zinniablossom, who looked just as surprised as Sedgestrike felt. 

As more and more cats broke away to their desired mates. Sedgestrike knew she couldn’t prolong the inevitable any longer. Breathing in deeply, she stood and walked gingerly towards Blueflower, who was talking quietly to Littlebrook. Keeping her chin high and chest raised, Sedgestrike hesitated behind Blueflower before clearing her throat. 

“Blueflower,” Sedgestrike greeted politely.

When the warrior turned at the sound of her name, Sedgestrike was enthralled by her beauty immediately. Her bright blue eyes and thick blue-gray fur made a striking parallel that would make even the most vibrant dayflower envious. Her scent, a faint but flattering sweetness, quickly engulfed Sedgestrike, making her forget her own name. 

“Sedgestrike,” Blueflower greeted her with a small smile. Her expression was unreadable. 

“May I speak to you for a moment?” Sedgestrike asked, ducking her head to Littlebrook apologetically. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” 

“It’s okay!” Littlebrook chirped, her freckled face beaming. “I was just above to take a dive in the catmint anyways.” Her blue eyes sparkled with her usual giddiness and the small, dappled she-cat quickly hopped away, leaving Blueflower and Sedgestrike alone. 

Blueflower’s eyes darted to Sedgestrike wreath for a heartbeat before her eyes met Sedgestrike’s again. “You may.” 

Why is her expression so hard to read? Sedgestrike wondered. It was almost like she was guarding something behind her face. Nervous as ever, Sedgestrike led Blueflower into the orange groves, as many of the other cats did, knowing she would soon make her proposal. The sound of cicadas was teeming through the orange trees, humming into Sedgestrike’s head. The path between the orange trees seemed to narrow the further they walked, but Sedgestrike wanted to get as far as possible from the clearing, not wanting anyone to overhear the proposal that was meant for Blueflower. 

When she turned, she was again struck by Blueflower’s beauty. She forgot how words worked, and the two she-cats ended up staring at one another in silence before Sedgestrike remembered how to speak again. “Blueflower, I am in love with you.” As the words escaped her, Sedgestrike could hardly believe she spoke them; the deep longing that hung on each syllable was undeniable. “I made this.” She dipped her head, allowing the ivy wreath to slide off to the ground between them. “I made this in hopes of you accepting my love for you.” 

The silence that followed was immense, and Sedgestrike thought she would suffocate beneath it. Her longing soon morphed into pleading then into desperation, which grew like an ugly mass in her heart.

Blueflower sat down and shook her head, a deep sadness suddenly appearing on her face. “Sedgestrike, I came here today because I wanted to give you a proper refusal.” 

“A… what?” Sedgestrike felt like the ground fell from beneath her paws. Her insides spilled from a hole in her chest. “Refusal?” She was surprised by how small her voice sounded. 

Blueflower’s eyes were downcast. Her expression was still guarded, but she could not hide the guilt--or was it pain?--in her words. “We can’t be together, Sedgestrike. I can’t be yours.” 

“But… you have my heart,” Sedgestrike pointed out, the shock in her voice was rivalled by desperation. She began to talk faster, fearing that if she didn’t speak soon enough, Blueflower would disappear. “Whether you want it or not, it’s yours. It’s been yours since I heard you whisper, “this is wrong,” at Vinestripe’s trial—you of all the cats had the courage to speak what I felt. You put words to thoughts I didn’t know I had… you made me think things, feel things, that made me feel fuller.” Her confession lingered in the air like static after a lightning strike, sending painful sparks between them. 

Blueflower bowed her head even deeper, refusing to meet Sedgestrike’s pleading gaze. “I’m not good for you, Sedgestrike.” The coldness in her voice stung Sedgestrike. Her heart felt frostbitten. “What you want, it’s not good. It can’t happen.” 

“You speak in a way that makes my heart sing and brings peace to my mind. Everything just… makes sense when you’re with me. I feel safe.” Sedgestrike was ready to grovel at Blueflower’s paws. The one cat that made her feel sane, that vanquished the demons in her head, was building a wall that she had not a prayer of penetrating. It was constructed of stone and sealed with mud, it was vast and cold between them, but Sedgestrike was prepared to gouge at it until her claws were nothing but bloodied nubs if it meant she had a chance of breaking through. “I haven’t been a warrior for long, I know, but I’ll make you proud to call me yours… if you’d let me be there. Let me be the one you call yours… please.” 

“Are you even listening?” Blueflower’s voice rose, but broke before reaching the next octave. “I’m not good for you! We can’t be together.” Finally, she met Sedgestrike’s stare, and her eyes were pools of regret. “I shouldn’t have let you get close to me. I knew this would happen…” 

Sedgestrike would have preferred Blueflower just striking her. The pain her words caused was more unbearable than any physical pain she had felt before. “Can I ask why?” she mewed, feeling her heart break.

“Why what?” 

“Why can’t we be together?” 

Blueflower grew quiet. Sedgestrike gazed at her, searching, praying to find any indication that this was all a bad joke or a dream. But the pain was too real. It was all too real. 

“We just can’t,” Blueflower muttered coldly. 

“Is it because we’re both she-cats?” 

“No, Sedgestrike… It’s just…” Blueflower frowned and shook her head, her expression becoming unreadable again. 

“What are you hiding from me?” Sedgestrike demanded, frustration giving an edge to her voice. “Is it because I’m too young? Too reckless? Too stupid? Too ugly?” 

“Just stop, Sedgestrike!” Blueflower snapped, eyes brimming with pain. “It’s not you. I’m the one that’s not good.” 

“What do you even mean? What makes you not good? You’re smart, and kind, and you take care of others.” Sedgestrike lowered her chin, her voice becoming even softer. “You’re wonderful.” 

“No, I’m not any of those things.” Blueflower dipped her head again, the sadness was raw in her voice.

“Yes, you are,” Sedgestrike assured her softly. She took a ginger step closer to Blueflower. The wreath remained between them, acting more as a barrier than a bond. “You are all of those things and so much more, Blueflower.” 

“No, no, no.” Blueflower was shaking her head, eyes squeezed shut. 

“Yes,” Sedgestrike mewed, coming closer still. She wanted nothing more than to embrace Blueflower. She wanted it so much that it hurt. “You are good for me. You are the only one for me.” 

“I can’t be,” she insisted, voice just above a whisper. 

“Why?” Sedgestrike asked. “Please, just tell me why, and I promise--I promise I’ll never come near you again, if that’s what you want. I’ll do whatever you want, just tell me why.” The sound of her begging was so pathetic that it made every last inch of pride in her writhe and wither like a worm beneath the scorching sun. 

“I could never want those things--I could never not want you beside me.” 

Hope flickered like an ember in Sedgestrike’s frozen heart. “Then what’s holding you back?” 

Blueflower rose her chin, staring deeply into Sedgestrike’s golden eyes. She found torment and pain in those blue depths she never thought possible, and she was broken by a wave of surprise. How long had that pain been in Blueflower? How long had she endured it alone? 

“I can’t be with you, Sedgestrike… because I’m a traitor.”


	30. Silent Vows

STARING into Blueflower’s eyes, Sedgestrike was buffeted by a whirl of emotions. The warm colors of sunset were drained, moonbleached, and left her feeling cold. Blueflower’s grave expression was shadowed by the night; her blue eyes glinted in the dark, a challenge waiting within them. Her revelation came as a shock to Sedgestrike, but simultaneously, she felt like she knew it all along. There was always something different about Blueflower, that was how she caught Sedgestrike’s eye in the first place, and in MarshClan, being different ran parallel to being a traitor. 

“Don’t you see?” Blueflower rasped, her voice becoming harsh. “I’m not good.” 

Sedgestrike couldn’t speak, not yet. She was still trying to grapple reality, which was soon becoming intangible; with every reach, it slipped through her claws like wisps of fog, leaving her confused and lost. Blueflower was a traitor. The murderous glint of Whitestar’s eyes came to mind. The very breed of warrior her leader sought to extinguish was alive and well; Sedgestrike knew if Whitestar ever discovered the truth about Blueflower, she would meet the same gruesome end as Vinestripe. Sedgestrike shivered at the thought. 

“But I refuse to change,” Blueflower growled, eyes narrowing. “I am the way I am for a reason, and I can’t--I won’t stop being who I am.” The determination in her voice was harder than a rock. 

“I’m not asking you to stop being who you are,” Sedgestrike murmured. There was only a sliver of distance between them now; the she-cats were breathing the same air, eyes locked on one another. 

Blueflower’s whisper wavered as she spoke. “But I can’t be who I am and be with you.” 

Sedgestrike winced at her words. “Yes, you can,” she assured her softly. “Blueflower, I don’t care that you’re a traitor.” 

“What?” Blueflower’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? You’re an honor graduate. You’re a part of Whitestat’s elite guard now. If anyone were to ever find out about me… You’d be ruined.” 

Hissing, Sedgestrike shook her head. “I don’t care about those things.” Her gaze hardened. “I only care about you.” 

“Sedgestrike… If you knew all that I’ve done, you’d not want me.” 

“I could never not want you,” Sedgestrike whispered. “I have done things that’d make you not want to be with me either.” Her expression mirrored the darkness of the growing night. 

Blueflower was silent, staring into Sedgestrike, searching. The shred of distance between them pulsated with a magnetic pull that was beginning to get too strong to ignore. “Sedgestrike…” She leaned in hesitantly, closing the distance between them by touching her forehead to hers.

The sound of her name was enough to attract Sedgestrike forward. She was consumed by Blueflower’s touch, her warmth, her scent. She wanted all of it. She drank her in like her first gulp of water after wandering in the heat for days, desperately, hungrily. Her face traced down along her neck, rubbing into the soft fur in her chest, making Blueflower shudder as she rasped her tongue across Sedgestrike’s head. She licked up along Blueflower’s neck to her jaw and then her cheek, and their eyes met again. This time, when Blueflower met her gaze again, the emotion in them was raw. Sedgestrike realized the desire in her eyes was just as stark and fierce as her own. She wanted her too. 

Overcome with desire, she pressed her broad shoulders into Blueflower’s, and the she-cat purred, slowly yielding to her. Sedgestrike soon found herself standing over Blueflower as she lay in the soft grass, staring up at her with wide blue eyes. Their breaths were ragged, drowning out the sounds of crickets singing around them. Sedgestrike felt her heartbeat in every inch of her body. As she lowered herself to Blueflower, she pressed her face into her neck, nibbling gently. Blueflower’s soft laugh made Sedgestrike shiver and grin, nuzzling her chest with a rumbling purr. She could feel Blueflower’s paws knead into the thick fur on her neck, tugging gently. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Sedgestrike murmured, her voice rasping with longing. She licked along the nape of her neck, her large paws holding Blueflower close. 

Blueflower purred. “You are too.” Her whisper was in Sedgestrike’s ear. 

Sedgestrike smiled down at Blueflower, chuckling as the she-cat jerked up to nip playfully at her chin. She could not recall a time she had been happier than now. Her purr was strong enough to reverberate out of her chest, and she could feel Blueflower’s purr pour into her. Blueflower pulled her close, rasping her tongue against her cheek. Smiling, Sedgestrike shook with pleasure when she felt Blueflower’s fangs scrape gently beneath her jaw as her paws pressed into her broad shoulders. 

“I love you,” Blueflower whispered. Guilt darkened her features, twisting her smile into a frown. “I’m sorry… I just want to protect you. I didn’t mean to upset you earlier.” She nuzzled Sedgestrike’s cheek, sighing softly. Her breath tasted sweet; Sedgestrike drank her in hungrily. “I don’t know what to do.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Sedgestrike murmured, gazing down at Blueflower with glittering golden eyes. She could hear Blueflower utter those words until the end of time. Their breathing slowed, in synch, and they continued to hold one another’s stare as the crickets sang around them. “We’re in this mess together.” 

Blueflower smiled, but her eyes clouded with worry. “The Clan treats me different,” she continued. Sedgestrike never recalled her ever sounding so dejected; it was like Blueflower blossomed, unveiling the softest, most vulnerable depths of her petals and the root of her stigma. It was more intimate than touch. “They’re going to treat you different too if we leave her together. And your father… I don’t want you to have to choose between us.” 

Sedgestrike bristled. “You already know I don’t care what they think.” 

“I know,” she murmured, keeping her face pressed into Sedgestrike’s broad chest. “But they could start asking questions.” 

Stiffening, Sedgestrike knew what Blueflower was alluding to immediately. “I won’t tell them anything,” she asserted. “I’ll keep you safe, even if it kills me.” Sedgestrike said this, knowing very well that it would kill her to protect a traitor. She did not know what Blueflower had done exactly, but she knew even having a conversation with a Fallen would cause Whitestar to scream treason. 

Blueflower’s breath caught, and the emotion in her eyes shone with the pale light of the moon. Sedgestrike could see the stars twinkling in the blue depths of her eyes, and her desire to protect her only grew stronger. “But I wouldn’t want you to fight for me.” 

The memory of Pikestar was vivid in Sedgestrike’s head. She was tasked to find the traitors and kill them, or else risk the death of her loved ones. But what would he do if her loved one was one of the traitors? She imagined Pikestar wouldn’t hesitate to target Blueflower first. Her fur prickled along her spine. “Don’t resist me,” Sedgestrike rumbled, resting on top of her softly, feeling her shiver beneath me. “My life is not my own. My heart belongs to you. How could I not fight for the one that holds my heart?” Her brows furrowed. “Besides, anyone that would lay a claw on your for being a traitor deserves to be mauled.”

“Sedgestrike, do you realize what you’re saying?” Blueflower gasped.

“I know damn well what I’m saying.” Sedgestrike’s face became grim as she remembered the sight of Vinestripe’s mangled body being rolled off the cliff. “I know what they’re capable of. If they dare do anything to you I’ll-I’ll kill them!” 

“Sedgestrike,” Blueflower hissed gently, stroking her cheek with her paw. The concern in her eyes was grave, burying the warmth that was in them before. “You don’t need to get blood on your paws. I’m safe. I’ll be okay.” She offered a reassuring smile. 

“But the things they do--what they did to Vinestripe--it--” Sedgestrike realized what she said when it was too late. 

“Vinestripe?” Blueflower mewed in shock. “Who told you what happened to him?”

Sedgestrike hesitated. If she told her about seeing Vinestripe’s murder firsthand in a vision bestowed on her by Pikestar from the Place of Eternal Night… she would think she was crazy. Maybe she was crazy? “N-no one told me. I just… guessed.”

“Oh.” Blueflower didn’t sound convinced. “Well, I’m not sure how much you know… but he’s not the only one that met that same fate.” Her voice grew as dark as the shadows stretching around them. “That’s why I am the way I am. I… can’t lose anyone else.”

Lifting her chin, Sedgestrike smirked. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going anywhere!”

Blueflower giggled, shaking her head. “My hero.”

Sedgestrike chuckled. “Thanks, I try.” 

Blueflower drew her paw up and down along the back of Sedgestrike’s neck as she rested her head on her chest. The sound of Blueflower’s heartbeat soothed her, thudding with a rhythm that sang to her and only her. She watched Blueflower stare at the stars as she turned her head to rest her chin on her chest, smiling at the sight of her thoughtful face. 

“I know what we should do,” Blueflower mewed suddenly. She sat up so that Sedgestrike had to lift herself off the other. Sedgestrike looked at her, confused by her urgency. “Maybe we can be together and not be together at the same time?” 

The thought of not being together made Sedgestrike’s heart twinge painfully. She was so close to Blueflower now, she didn’t want that to be taken away. “What do you mean?” 

“I’ll be your mate, Sedgestrike,” Blueflower continued, moving in to nuzzle into Sedgestrike’s neck. Her touch soothed Sedgestrike’s splintering nerves. “I’ll be yours, and you mine, but no one has to know. We can keep it a secret.” 

Sedgestrike chewed on the idea, but wretched at the thought. “I want others to know that you’re mine,” she grumbled, wrapping her arm around her to pull her closer to her chest. 

“Sedgestrike, this is about more than us. This is something bigger than us. If we’re going to be safe, we have to attract as little attention as possible. You know that.” 

“I know,” Sedgestrike mumbled, crestfallen. “I’m just being selfish.” 

Blueflower reclined from their embrace, staring intently at Sedgestrike. “Do you agree?” 

Sedgestrike pondered longer; she wanted nothing more than to have a normal life. She didn’t want to be a Paragon. She didn’t want to have a prophecy. She just wanted to be with Blueflower and live a simple life. However, she knew she had a purpose; it was to fight the very entity that caused her to be abnormal: the Place of Eternal Night. So long as They had power, Sedgestrike and those she loved were not safe. Even now, she knew They were lurking, witnessing her betray Their wishes by making this silent vow with Blueflower. 

“Let’s do it.” Sedgestrike smiled, though it pained her. “We’ll keep it a secret. I’ll do anything to protect you.” 

Blueflower smiled back, and Sedgestrike could see a gleam of sadness in her eyes. “I know it’ll be hard, but… we’ll figure this out. We can do this.” 

“You’re not alone,” Sedgestrike promised. “I want Whitestar out of power just as much as you do.” When the words were spoken, so sudden and uncensored, Sedgestrike felt weight fall off her shoulders; she felt like she was carrying a boulder on her back for the longest time. Upon seeing Blueflower’s surprise, Sedgestrike shrugged her broad shoulders. “I have my own reasons.” 

“Then I have some cats I think you’ll want to meet,” Blueflower whispered excitedly. “Not here, of course, but once they find out about you… They’ll want to know you--the real you.” 

Sedgestrike’s heart fluttered with excitement. Could this be it? Her chance to escape the demons that flogged her mind? Maybe, with Blueflower’s help, she could finally get the opportunity to expose Whitestar. She curled her tail with delight. “I’d be honored to meet them.”

“Sedgestrike,” Blueflower whispered, her voice sobering up, becoming serious, if not awestruck. “Something, I don’t know what, but something inside me is saying that with you… I think we’ll have a chance.”


	31. Gritted Teeth

DAWN stained the sky a muted purple, and in its vastness, it harbored silvery clouds that stretched across in thin wisps towards the shining pink horizon. Sedgestrike was transfixed on the colorful heavens as she set foot back in camp. Her paws fell off during the trek back home, all that was left were the boney nubs of her ankles.... At least, that was how it felt. What pained her most, however, were the knots in her belly; she could feel her intestines slither shakily in her stomach, oozing still with anxiety at Blueflower’s revelation: she was a traitor. 

The embarkation back to MarshClan from the orange groves had been a blur. She gathered shards of ice that held images, frozen, of what had occurred, hoarding them in her brain. A glimpse of shock from the festival attendees’ faces when Sedgestrike returned to the clearing alone, without Blueflower, wreath still in tow. Yewbranch’s sympathy stung most because it was undeserved. Though Blueflower did not take the wreath and formally accept her proposal, they did become mates, only, no one in MarshClan was allowed to know that. Another shard held the reflected image of Whitestar’s unbridled pleasure. She offered her condolences for Sedgestrike’s failed proposal with a ghost of a smile that would haunt her until death, maybe even after that. 

Abandoned in the orange orchard was her wreath, and her hope that she and Blueflower could share a normal life together. Sedgestrike felt the doom of the prophecy loom overhead, much heavier and darker than the frivolous clouds above. She was destined, along with her siblings, to usher in a new order, and that meant killing those that could rise to oppose it. Blueflower was one of those cats. She remembered the menace in Whitestar’s amber eyes when she told Sedgestrike to sniff out the traitors in their ranks, but now that she had one in her clutches, she refused to let her go. She would rather die than allow Whitestar or any of the Paragons to get their claws on Blueflower. But she had not forgotten Pikestar’s threat… if she ignored her destiny, her loved ones would die. 

As she wrestled with her thoughts, she noticed Mudpaw milling about the entrance to the elders den. He was rolling clods of soiled moss into an unsightly lump that looked more like algae gouged out from the river floor than bedding. Sedgestrike assumed the majority of the sodden moss came from Vervainclaw’s nest, the oldest of the elders; he was always her least favorite cat to tend to as an apprentice. The sour odor was pungent enough for Sedgestrike to smell it from across the clearing. The only thing more sour than the dirty moss was the look on Mudpaw’s face. Sedgestrike felt a pang of sympathy, soon followed by a rash of guilt, as she watched her brother continue to roll out old bedding from the elders den. He should have been a warrior by now, instead, he was performing menial tasks meant for the greenest of apprentices. 

Unsure if it was pity or guilt that possessed her to approach him, she found herself hovering by his side as he flicked moss off his claws. Mudpaw’s green eyes found hers, and Sedgestrike was unsurprised to find resentment glowing in their verdant depths. It seemed he still blamed her for his failure at the final test. Though Sedgestrike saved him from the viper’s bite in the marsh, she consequently condemned his partner, Toadpaw. The death of Toadpaw was ultimately what led to Mudpaw’s failure, and it was still a fresh wound; Sedgestrike knew that the wound was bound to fester if she delayed patching things up with Mudpaw, but she felt a twinge of resentment herself. He should be grateful! Had she not saved his life, he would’ve been the one getting buried. 

“What do you want?” Mudpaw growled. The acidity in his voice was potent enough to corrode his teeth, but his fangs remained, glinting as he curled his lip. 

“Just checking up on you,” Sedgestrike mewed curtly. She eyed him cautiously, as if he was a flame that could burst if given the right amount of fuel. “Are you doing this alone?”

“Tch, why do you care?” Mudpaw was bristling, his mottled brown pelt began to resemble a thorn bush. Rolling his eyes, he grumbled an explanation. “The other apprentices were allowed to enjoy the holiday.”

Sedgestrike frowned sympathetically. Toadpaw’s death was a freak accident. He shouldn’t be getting punished for it! “Let me help you?” she offered. “I’m sure you could use a break.”

“Piss off!” Mudpaw snapped, shouldering her away from the rotten pile of moss as she leaned in to roll it away. “I don’t need your pity. Don’t you have a new mate to coddle?” His sneer pricked Sedgestrike’s nerve, and she matched his glare with her own. “In case you don’t remember, the last time you interfered with my life, things didn’t turn out so well.”

“I saved your life!” Sedgestrike protested. “How could you be so ungrateful? Are you saying you’d rather be dead than care for the elders for a little bit longer? How selfish can you be?”

Mudpaw recoiled from Sedgestrike’s scorn, only to hiss and rise up again so that he was eye-level with her. “That’s easy for you to say! You don’t have to deal with the looks. You don’t have to hear the things the others are saying about me. How I am a fool, how I should’ve been there for Toadpaw, or how disgraceful it is for our parents to have such a failure of a son...”

“None of that is worse than dying,” Sedgestrike growled, eyes narrowing. “You’re disrespecting Toadpaw’s death if you think your circumstances trump his. At least you got a second chance!” 

Sedgestrike couldn’t continue her scorn, however, for Mudpaw tackled her, spitting curses. His anger made his movements harsh, but clumsy, and she felt his claws knot messily in her thick fur, tugging at it, but not breaking her skin. She hissed at him, frustrated, and clipped his chin with her large paw; she was careful to keep her claws sheathed. Once he was stunned by her blow, she easily kicked him off her, having only been pinned for a heartbeat before tossing him to the side. Mudpaw grunted upon impact, dust and grass swirling around him. When he got up, he seemed to be ready to attack again, eyes blazing and teeth bared, but froze when he realized their audience. Sedgestrike was panting heavily, slowly noticing it was only her breathing she could hear; the rest of camp was dead silent, watching their violent exchange with wide eyes, like a gaggle of owls, bobbing their heads and clicking their beaks judgmentally. 

“What’s this then?” Whitestar growled. She broke through the crowd, eyes blazing. 

“Whitestar, I—“ Before Sedgestrike could explain herself, her leader went to Mudpaw and cuffed the side of his head with her paw. Sedgestrike winced at the sound of the dull thud. 

“I assign you to the elders, and you decide to pick a fight with your sister instead? For shame, Mudpaw.” Whitestar’s words fell from her lips like ice chips. 

Mudpaw gave their leader a malevolent glare, but remained silent, ears flattened. 

“You should show more respect for your sister,” Whitestar continued. Sedgestrike felt regret swell in her chest, making it hard to breathe. Mudpaw seemed very small under their leader’s disapproving gaze. “As an honor graduate and a warrior, she’s your superior and should be treated as such. I expected more from you than this.” 

Sedgestrike could feel a glare burning into her. It did not take long for her to find Longscar among the crowd of cats; his amber eyes bore into hers with more hatred than she thought possible.

“Until I say otherwise, you will continue to tend to the elders,” Whitestar decided. Her voice was as frigid. “You need to learn your place, Mudpaw, lest you forget yourself.” 

Whitestar turned, storming off into her den with a soft growl. The shockwave that rattled camp afterwards paralyzed the cats. No one dared to move or speak until Spiderfang piped up. “Alright, let’s get back to work! I’ll be assigning patrols soon, so stand by.” 

Mudpaw stalked passed Sedgestrike, head lowered, and she turned to him. “Mudpaw, I—I didn’t mean for that to happen. I just care and—“

“Just leave me alone,” he mumbled, disappearing into the shadows of the elders den. 

Sedgestrike felt a lump swell in her throat. This was all her fault. She tried to make amends, but she only made things worse. Still, a vein of anger still pulsed within. Mudpaw was the one that refused to listen! How could she make peace with him if he drew his claws at the sight of her? 

Yewbranch and Fernstream were fast approaching, and Sedgestrike knew the ordeal was far from over. She stifled a groan when she noticed the look of concern on Fernstream’s face. 

“What happened?” Her mother’s demand was more out of worry than anger. She could see dismay in her deep frown. 

“I tried to apologize to Mudpaw, but he wasn’t hearing it.” Sedgestrike shrugged her broad shoulders. “I said some things that set him off. It’s my fault he reacted like that.”

“That’s no excuse! How’re you three supposed to overcome this if you don’t get along?” Fernstream fretted.

“Overcome what?” Yewbranch mewed, bewildered still by the situation prior. 

Her eyes always looked bigger when she was frightened. She often wore that same stunned expression when Mudpaw and Sedgestrike would break out into fights in the nursery or apprentice den; they would usually get into a scuffle after a game of moss ball or when Mudpaw would steal a bite of her fresh-kill. But this argument was different. Yes, Sedgestrike realized. This one shook her to the core. 

Fernstream glanced at Yewbranch uneasily. “You… You know what I mean,” she murmured impatiently, licking her white chest in a vain attempt to calm herself down.

Sedgestrike knew Fernstream was worrying about the prophecy. The dread on her mother’s face was the same that was on her own whenever she thought about it. Yewbranch remained confused and ignorant, glancing between them like they started sprouting antlers. 

“The prophecy,” Sedgestrike mewed to her through clenched teeth. She knew too many cats were still staring their way, eager to catch glimpses of family drama as they went about their mundane lives. She had to be careful. 

Yewbranch struggled to disguise her horror, and Sedgestrike noticed her lick her white chest fur in an attempt to settle her nerves. It seemed she picked up on their mother’s nervous tick. Yewbranch looked to Fernstream in desperation. “So you do know about it? You’ve known all this time?” The hurt in her voice was unbridled. Sedgestrike winced. 

“We cannot discuss this anymore here,” Fernstream decided, her voice just above a whisper. “I’ll explain to you later, Yewbranch.”

“I—I need a moment.” Yewbranch was breathing unevenly, eyes darting around as she frantically tried to compose herself.

“I need you three to get along. You’re stronger together.” Fernstream’s voice became desperate, sounding more so as she kept her voice hushed. “Whatever is coming… I know you won’t be able to tackle it alone. I’ve waited too long, I should’ve told you three sooner. I… I just wanted to protect you.”

Sedgestrike nodded slowly. “It’s okay, Mother. It’ll be okay.” She felt cold and hard, like stone, as she comforted her mother. No longer could she be a soft, weak kit that sought shelter in Fernstream’s embrace. She needed to take charge now. She knew the dangers that waited for them ahead, and she knew she was willing to die protecting them. 

“So, it’s real? It’s really real?” Yewbranch pressed. Her eyes seemed to beg for them to laugh it off, chalk it up as a good, long-running joke and have them waltz off to fill their bellies with good food. Instead, Yewbranch was met with grave stares and graver frowns. 

“Yes,” Fernstream reaffirmed. Her voice was stronger now, not wavering like before. Sedgestrike envied her mother’s resilience. 

“What about Mudpaw?” Yewbranch was staring yonder, towards the elders den.

“I’ll speak to him.” Fernstream smiled. “Please don’t worry about this too much.” She turned and made her way towards the elders den, likely preparing to talk to their brother. 

Sedgestrike watched their mother disappear into the den before turning back to Yewbranch. Her sister was staring her her white paws, frowning. Sedgestrike sighed softly, going to her and rasping her tongue across her cheek reassuringly. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Sedgestrike assured her, smiling. 

“You say that, but you don’t really know, do you?” Yewbranch mumbled pitifully. “I’ve seen you toss and turn at night and wake up with fear on your face. There’s something going on. Something evil. I can sense it in you.” 

Sedgestrike’s gaze grew dull, her expression went blank, and she put up her guard. It was like a fissure emerged between them in that moment. Sedgestrike knew she couldn’t unveil the horrors of her night terrors to Yewbranch. Her sister wouldn’t understand. Backing away, she laughed softly. 

“Don’t worry about me.” 

“I should’ve gone to you!” Yewbranch cried out, moving to stand close behind Sedgestrike as she walked away. Sedgestrike froze, eyes wide. Her sister continued, “I knew you were suffering and I just stood by. I could see your pain. But I—but I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know—I didn’t know what to say…”

Sedgestrike glanced back at Yewbranch, cracking a grin. “Stop being such a whiner,” she teased. Inside, however, she was aching. Why couldn’t she just open up to her sister? Was it too late? What had changed? The scars on her palms began to burn. “There’s nothing to cry about.”

“So you say…” The guilt in Yewbranch’s voice was raw. She offered a paw to Sedgestrike. “You may not… Blueflower may not be with you, but I am. I’ll be better. I’ll support you.” 

_It’s too late,_ a whisper in Sedgestrike’s head hissed. Sedgestrike shut her eyes, trying to push the thought out of her head. _Don’t think like that. Don’t think like that._

 _Think like what? Think the truth. Where was she moons ago?_ The whisper within grew to a growl. 

“It’s okay,” Sedgestrike reaffirmed, forcing a smile. “Really.” 

Yewbranch pulled her paw back. Sedgestrike waited too long to take it. 

“I guess I’ll see you around then?” Yewbranch murmured, backing away slowly. Her eyes refused to meet Sedgestrike’s face. 

Sedgestrike smirked. “Yup.” 

Yewbranch didn’t hesitate. She turned and left, making a beeline for Blackhawk; the black tomcat was huddled near the fresh-kill pile, gorging himself on the fish caught by the cats that stayed behind from the Blossom Festival. Sedgestrike watched, turning green with envy, as he greeted her with a broad smile and a flush of nuzzles and licks. Meanwhile, she was left in the dust, feeling cold as if a gust of frigid wind billowed against her. She would only ever be able to run to Blueflower like that in her dreams--not even in her dreams. Her dreams were flooded with the Eternal Night. All she had was a promise that they would be together in the cover of night, in the secrets of the shadows. No one would be a witness to their love. 

Sedgestrike found Blueflower, murmuring to Molefoot and Littlebrook outside the warriors den. Even from a distance, Sedgestrike could see the fatigue in Blueflower’s blue eyes. Her heart lurched. It took every inch of restraint in her to lock her muscles up and prevent them from carrying her to Blueflower’s side. This is for the best, she decided. If Blueflower’s secret was to be safe, their distance was necessary… no matter how much it hurt. 

Now that she was alone, Sedgestrike realized the gravity of her tiredness. It crashed into her like the rushing river’s current, swallowing her in a haze. Caught in her abysmal reverie, she failed to notice Gingerstep approaching until she was upon her. 

“Oh, hey,” Sedgestrike greeted, startled. 

Gingerstep hesitated before her, paws shuffling nervously. “Hi, uh, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but… you and I are sentinels today,” Gingerstep mumbled, smiling apologetically. 

“Lovely, as if I haven’t been travelling all night,” Sedgestrike deadpanned. The idea of being on her paws for the rest of the day made them ache even more. She became conscious of how tired she was in that moment after being up all night; her eyes wanted nothing more than to sink into their sockets and hide from the light of day. 

“Well, Spiderfang said we will get the day off tomorrow, so I guess that makes up for it, right?” Gingerstep reasoned. 

Sedgestrike smirked, shrugging. “Sure, I guess.” 

Falling into step behind her, Sedgestrike noticed a small formation of warriors awaited their arrival with impatient tail flicks. Mothfur and Palemist were exchanging annoyed glances as Snakefang, loudest among them, greeted Sedgestrike and Gingerstep with a disapproving stare. The mottled brown tom’s pelt was wrinkled with irritation. 

“We’re way behind schedule!” he snapped, eyeballing Sedgestrike critically. “It’s about time you two got here.”

Sedgestrike would’ve found Snakefang more intimidating if he didn’t have the build and bulk of a twig. “We’re sentinels, not a border patrol, it’s not like we all have to leave together,” she pointed out dryly. “But if you’re too scared to monitor the grounds alone, I guess I can hold your tail.” 

Snakefang spat, lashing his long tail. “How else can I hold you accountable? For all I know, you could just laze in camp all day and never leave.” 

“That would mean disobeying a lawful order,” Sedgestrike countered, raising her chin. “And that’s a crime I do not wish to be accused of.” 

“Order?” Snakefang echoed with a growl. “Nice try. Spiderfang told me all of you were volunteers and that you were getting the day off as a reward.”

“Volunteers? But I--”

“Enough of the back and forth, hm?” Mothfur interjected sternly. There was a warning glint in his amber eyes as he regarded Sedgestrike. “We’re wasting daylight.”

Something in Sedgestrike told her to back down despite her confusion. She didn’t volunteer for this at all! If it were up to her, she would be curled up in her nest right now. Giving an annoyed snort, she nodded stiffly to the older warrior, yielding. She found Gingerstep’s golden eyes, noticing her give her another apologetic grin. Sedgestrike’s pelt prickled. What was going on?

“Well,” Snakefang huffed, shaking off his irritation and raising his chin importantly. “Let’s set off then, shall we?” 

Rolling her eyes, Sedgestrike followed after Snakefang as he led the company of sentinels out into the marsh. Breaking through the thick barrier of sawgrass and cane, Sedgestrike was greeted by a vast expanse of murky swampland. Water oozed between thick mounds of mud, glistening with the burning sun. It was not long before Sedgestrike’s fur was smeared with peat, slicking it back. The ripe odor of bog welcomed her home. After being surrounded by the sickly sweet perfume of the orange groves, she was put at ease by the familiarity of soiled earth. 

Falling into step next to her, Mothfur was staring ahead with an unreadable expression, as usual. “When we pick our patrol areas, ask for the pine forest,” he whispered under his breath. 

Looking at him quizzically, Sedgestrike frowned. “Wha--”

“Don’t ask questions. Just do it.” If Mothfur was not always so dreadfully monotone, Sedgestrike would’ve suspected he was threatening her. 

Heart skipping into a sprint, Sedgestrike began to feel like this had something to do with Blueflower. What if Mothfur overheard them in the grove last night? Sedgestrike’s mouth went dry. She righted her expression, frowning deeply. “Fine.” 

Nodding, Mothfur padded ahead of her as Snakefang led the cats into the palmetto grove. Locusts screeched from the pine trees that were sparsely strewn between the palmettos. Above, within the branches of the pine, Sedgestrike spotted a red-shouldered hawk preening its tawny feathers, unbothered by the presence of cats. She admired the sheen of its feathers and the uncaring gleam in its amber eyes. Meanwhile, she remained grounded, slathered in mud, with a dull glint in her golden eyes. Tired. Must be nice to fly, she mused. 

Turning to the others, Snakefang’s glowering eyes were unblinking in their intensity. “It’s time we divide the territory.” 

“I’ll take the riverbank,” Palemist announced immediately. Her blue eyes dared Snakefang to refuse her claim. 

“Very well,” Snakefang growled. 

Sedgestrike could feel Mothfur’s amber eyes boring into her pelt, scorching it. She knew, if this did concern Blueflower, she had to play nice. “And I’ll take the pine forest,” Sedgestrike added her piece grudgingly.

“I’ll take the Starlit Springs… If-if that’s okay?” Gingerstep piped up nervously. 

Snakefang nodded, his gaze flitting to Mothfur. “And you?” 

“I’ll remain here,” Mothfur decided. 

Snakefang looked at each of the warriors in turn, nodding with satisfaction. “That leaves me with the swamp beside camp.” He raised his long tail with added importance. “You all know the drill, maintain vigilance in your area of responsibility. If anything suspicious goes on, you’re to report it back to camp at once. At sunset, we will rendezvous here and return to camp to turnover with the night sentinels.” 

“Understood,” Sedgestrike murmured in unison with the rest of the sentinels. 

Snakefang promptly left the palmettos, disappearing beyond the spikey fronds, back towards the marshland. Palemist took her leave as well, albeit more gracefully than Snakefang, gliding back through the pine forest on her way to the river border. Sedgestrike hesitated as Mothfur remained in place, staring at her. In confusion, she also noticed that Gingerstep failed to depart as well. Both cats hovered before her as if she were a snake, either one of them hesitant to proceed; it was a stare-down. 

“Okay, what’s this all about, then?” Sedgestrike growled, bristling. Mothfur was still and silent, a statue. His lack of response only irked Sedgestrike more, and she reared her head back with a snort. “If your only intent was to waste my time, you could’ve had the decency to wait until after the heat of day.” 

“Sedgestrike,” Gingerstep mewed uneasily. “We aren’t here to waste time. We’re here to help.” 

“Yeah?” Sedgestrike turned on her, lip curled. “Help me what?” Mistrust burned through her. She felt cornered. The heat was only stoking the fire that set her blood to boil; locusts still screamed around them, as if their wings were being seared by the sun rays. 

“Easy does it,” Mothfur warned, stepping forward as Gingerstep took a pace back. “You’re just going to have to trust us.” 

“That’s rich.” Sedgestrike rolled her eyes. As if she would trust anyone in MarshClan besides her family and Blueflower. Still, she was in no position to negotiate. She was the one walking on thin ice, not them. For all she knew, they could both be in on a scheme to rat her out to Whitestar. Ugh, I’m getting paranoid, she realized. “Fine,” Sedgestrike relented, glaring at them. “Where are we going?” 

“To the Great Cypress,” Mothfur replied. 

The heat did not improve even as the cats padded through the shade. The pine forest smelled richly of warm evergreen, which tickled Sedgestrike’s nose as her paws disturbed the blanket of pine needles laiden on the ground. Scrub jays flitted from branch to branch, squawking excitedly as the three warriors ducked under bushes and lept over roots. Waves of heat rippled between the narrow tree trunks before them, taunting Sedgestrike. Her thick fur, though cooled earlier by the slick mud, was now crusted with the remains, which fell off her rippling muscles in clumpy clods that left a breadcrumb trail as she went deeper into the woods. She was aware of Mothfur and Gingerstep walking on either side of her like escorts. Were they afraid of her running? 

Ahead, the Great Cypress stood in all its glory. Its broad, strong trunk was wide enough to fit several pine trees within its girth. Its branches flourished with leaves in the heat of riverswell, greedily soaking up the sunshine that filtered through. Gnarled roots beckoned the cats closer, curling inward and outward like a cat’s swaying tail. Lichen swung lazily from the canopy, casting long shadows that rocked to and fro, nonchalant. 

At the foot of the cypress, in the dark of its massive shadow, sat Blueflower. Upon meeting her gaze, Sedgestrike’s heart thundered to life. How did she get here? Tempted to rush to greet her, Sedgestrike jerked forward, only to stop abruptly when she remembered their company. She gave a huff of impatience, glancing between Mothfur and Gingerstep. 

“You made it!” chirped Littlebrook, peeking from behind a large root. Her blue eyes twinkled. “It’s about time!” 

Sedgestrike hesitated, puzzled by Littlebrook’s sudden appearance. Blueflower was smiling, to Sedgestrike’s relief. Though she had no idea what was going on, at least she knew she wasn’t in peril. 

“Well, well…” Molefoot yawned. Sedgestrike craned her head to see the small cat laying in the shade beside Blueflower; their dark fur blended seamlessly with the shade. “So you ended up escaping Snakefang’s clutches?” Their kinked whiskers twitched with amusement. 

“It’s wasn’t easy,” grunted Mothfur. “He took his leadership role very seriously.” If not for the blankness of his visage, Sedgestrike would think he was exasperated. 

A rasping voice coming from behind a tangle of roots upchurned from the earth put Sedgestrike on edge. “You’re here. That’s all that matters.” A stocky ginger cat stepped out to join the others. Redleaf. 

“So, what is this?” Sedgestrike asked finally, eyeing Redleaf with suspicion. 

Blueflower offered a small smile. “This is us.” 

Mothfur and Gingerstep left Sedgestrike’s side to stand with Blueflower. Together, all their eyes fell on Sedgestrike, anticipating her response. If she wasn’t confused before, she sure was now. 

“We are Risen.” Blueflower’s smile became wider. “The cats that want to rise against Whitestar.”

“You mean… you… all of you are…” Sedgestrike dared not say the word. 

“Traitors, yes.” Mothfur said it for her, unfeeling. 

Sedgestrike’s eyes widened. Before her were the very cats that Whitestar and the Paragons lusted for, the ones they longed to see dead: traitors, multiples of them. Anxiety wormed inside Sedgestrike. Blueflower unveiled Risen to her, not knowing just how close she was to the very cats, and the ethereal entities, that wanted to kill them. Her paws itched. Something dark inside her squirmed. 

_Kill them. Kill them. Kill them!_

Squeezing her eyes shut, Sedgestrike shook her head. “I won’t… this is…” 

Blueflower approached her slowly, her sweet scent curling around her. “I know this is a lot, but, please… Listen.” 

Sedgestrike gazed up, finding herself lost in her deep blue eyes. “I will,” she whispered. 

Nodding, Blueflower stepped back, nodding to the other cats that gathered under the cypress. “We can trust her,” she assured them. “She needs to know.”

“What makes you say that?” Mothfur asked, eyes narrowed. “She could turn…” 

“Yeah, Blueflower,” Gingerstep mewed, eyes becoming shifty. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea?” 

“I’d trust Sedgestrike with my life,” Blueflower growled, standing her ground. “She could be the one we need… I can feel it.” 

Sedgestrike stared at Blueflower with awe as she stood between her and the cats known as “Risen.” With her head held high and tail raised high with confidence, she looked like a completely different warrior from the passive she-cat that kept to herself in MarshClan camp. Sedgestrike found herself smiling. 

“If Blueflower trusts her then so do I,” Molefoot mewed, rising to their paws with a grin. “She’s never steered us wrong before.” 

Littlebrook piped up. “I second that one!” 

Mothfur hesitated, going quiet, but finally gave a nod. 

Gingerstep’s nerves still seemed rattled, for she forgot to speak until all eyes were on her. “Right, no--yeah, you’re right,” she relented squeakily. 

Redleaf remained quiet during the exchange, expressing neither favor nor ill will against her. He was staring at is paws, eyes glazed over. 

“So, you all want Whitestar out of power?” Sedgestrike pressed. Hope fluttered in her heart. Maybe she wasn’t alone? “Why?” 

Blueflower turned, her blue eyes darkening. “Because we know what she’s done, and we believe she wants to do worse.” 

Sedgestrike nodded grimly, the memory of Vinestripe’s murder fresh in her mind. “I understand,” she rasped. 

“There used to be more of us,” Gingerstep whispered forlornly, her head dipping. “We’ve… lost many in our efforts. And some--” She paused, voice failing her. “Some innocents got caught in the crosshairs.” 

Immediately, Sedgestrike knew Gingerstep was alluding to Egretsong, her littermate. When Minnowtail set Scorchface, a Fallen, free, he was forced to blind the warrior in their escape. Gingerstep’s expression was torn, bordering on ripping completely, with an emotion so feral in its sorrow that Sedgestrike could not bare to look at her any longer. 

“We’re running out of options,” Mothfur continued stoically. At least his face was never contorted with heart-wrenching emotions. For once, Sedgestrike relished his delightfully blank expression. “Whitestar is growing more suspicious… and vicious. Fewer Fallen are willing to stand up against her.” 

“What do you mean?” Sedgestrike pressed, nerves struck. “The Fallen are giving up?” 

Molefoot shrugged. “It doesn’t matter! We don’t need them. We have each other… and you!” 

Sedgestrike stepped back, shocked. “Me?” 

“You’re in Whitestar’s inner circle,” Molefoot hissed, their grizzled chin twitching excitedly. “You’re strong. The Clan respects you. No one will ever suspect a thing.” Their lips curled into a toothy grin. “With you and Redleaf on our side, we have a chance. 

Sedgestrike pondered, eyes fixed on the soft earth that cushioned the cypress roots. This was her chance. Maybe with Risen, she could finally resist her destiny and fight back against the ones that she feared? If she wasn’t alone, she had a better chance of winning. Though she was uncertain about working alongside Redleaf, she knew she couldn’t ignore the opportunity to beat Whitestar. Her eyes gazed at the Risen, and they gazed back at her. She needed them just as much as they needed her. 

“I’m in,” she growled, smiling. 

“Woohoo!” Littlebrook cheered, her voice ringing high above the rest. “I knew she’d do it!” 

Blueflower touched her nose to Sedgestrike’s smiling and laughing with a mixture of joy and relief. “I love you,” she whispered, making Sedgestrike melt. “We can do this. Together.” 

All along, Sedgestrike longed for a place in her Clan. For so long, she thought she was alone, and overnight, her isolation was erased. As she stared around at the smiling faces that surrounded her, she knew that she was where she belonged. Gingerstep seemed relieved, giggling softly. Molefoot was hopping up and down on their small paws. Even Mothfur cracked a grin. She realized she was laughing and smiling with them, her heart swimming with ease in a stream of happiness. With Risen, she could be with Blueflower. With Risen, she could stop Whitestar. No more cats would be hurt for doubting her reign, and the Eternal Night wouldn’t take over… 

The Eternal Night. 

Sedgestrike stopped laughing. Her sudden seriousness caught the attention of the other cats; they too fell silent. “I need to tell you what I know,” she murmured. 

Blueflower went to her side, giving her an encouraging nudge. “We’re willing to listen. Come join us in the shade?”

Obliging her offer, Sedgestrike sat amongst the Risen, suddenly hyper-aware of all eyes focused intently on her. She shivered inwardly; the last time she shared what she knew, she ended up losing her littermates’ trust and could’ve also lost her best friend. She wondered, apprehensively, if history would repeat itself. Wrapping her bushy tail around her big paws with a sigh, she gazed at the cats around her. 

“As you already know, Whitestar has been killing cats that speak or act out against her; any cat that shows the slightest bit of mistrust could be put to trial… and secretly executed,” Sedgestrike began. 

The Risen nodded amongst themselves, forlorn. Blueflower in particular looked melancholy; the glistening in her deep blue eyes betrayed her inner torment, disturbed like a ripple within a still lake. 

“As one of the honor graduates, Ospreyflight and I… were invited to join a group.” Sedgestrike paused to glance around for any sign that someone uninvited was listening in. She feared that the moment she mentioned the Order of the Destined Paragons, one of them would spring into existence before them and accuse them of treason. “The Order of the Destined Paragons.”

“Oh, jeez… We know of them,” Molefoot growled, rolling their eyes. “The group of cats that get together to congratulate each other on being masters of the universe.”

Sedgestrike managed a smirk at their humorous remark; it faded as she continued. “The paragons… Well, in order to join… you see--you have to--I…” 

“Sedgestrike,” Blueflower mewed worriedly. “You didn’t--”

“Let her speak.” Redleaf spoke up finally. “What she is about to speak is the truth.” His eyes seemed to hold a challenge, as if he dared her to speak her mind.

Sedgestrike felt like she was choking. Why couldn’t say what she did? Her paws burned and ached like she was walking on hot sand all day. Instead of saying anything, she raised one of her paws, turning it up to unveil the pad, which still bore a deep, jagged scar across the fleshy middle. 

A collective gasp sounded from the gathered warriors. They stared with bulging eyes and hanging jaws, speechless. 

“You took the mark.” Blueflower frowned, looking to Sedgestrike sadly. “Why would you do that?”

“You know of it?” Sedgestrike started, eyes wide. “The night I took it, I didn’t know what it meant… I felt like I didn’t have a choice. It just… happened,” she asserted, feeling guilty, and brought her paw back down. “But, with this, I swore fidelity to the Place of Eternal Night.”

The disappointment in the stares of the cats around her felt deserved, but it didn’t stop her from bristling defensively. “It’s not like I knew what I was doing! I didn’t know what it meant.” Sedgestrike couldn’t meet Blueflower’s stare.

“The Eternal Night…” Redleaf mused, narrowing his eyes. “A dark divine entity. StarClan’s contender in the heavens. They’re like StarClan but not… I don’t know how to describe Them. All I know is that the cats that go there are dangerous.” His eyes flashed as they fell on Sedgestrike. “And those dangerous cats are very, very powerful.”

Sedgestrike felt a growl rise in her throat as her frustration grew. It felt like something shoved a filter down her throat. They’re vile! Evil! Nothing good will come from Them! She could think those thoughts, but the moment she tried to speak them her tongue felt heavy and sat uselessly in her mouth.

“We know who They are but... “ Gingerstep was shivering as she spoke. “What do They want?” 

“MarshClan,” Sedgestrike answered through gritted teeth. “They want MarshClan to worship Them and adhere to Their agenda.”

“Which is what?” Blueflower pressed urgently. 

Sedgestrike shrugged, feeling useless. “I’m not entirely sure… I just know They are connected to how Whitestar has been treating cats that express displeasure with her rule.”

Blueflower thumped her tail against the ground thoughtfully. “So there is something more sinister involved…” 

“It’s all coming to a head,” Molefoot grunted, glaring at their small black paws. “We can’t afford to wait any longer. We must act!” Their black fur, peppered with gray, began to prickle. 

Mothfur spoke up first, his voice a deep rumble compared to Molefoot’s squeak. “No. We’re at a disadvantage; there aren’t many of us, and we don’t know if the Fallen will want to cooperate.” 

Sedgestrike’s brow furrowed. As much as she wanted to take on Whitestar, she knew the risk of attacking her head-on. With dark forces at play, Risen would need a lot more than a few able-bodied cats to win. But what? She felt so close she could taste it. 

“Perhaps Redleaf will know what to do?” Littlebrook offered hopefully, turning to the medicine cat with a smile. 

Redleaf shuffled his paws; his lofty body shook as he cleared his throat importantly. “There are forces at play beyond our understanding… and it is because of this lack of foresight on our part that I surmise one solution: we do not act.” 

“What?!” Molefoot snapped, eyes glinting. 

Redleaf’s gaze was even as he regarded the miffed warrior. “While you are right to assume Sedgestrike’s presence will help us, there is more to her than meets the eye.” His gaze turned to Sedgestrike, testing her reaction. “She has a destiny in her that we will never be able to comprehend. Therefore, we can never truly understand her desires.” 

Sedgestrike bristled at Redleaf’s implication. “You know what I want,” she protested, looking at all the Risen in turn. “I want to help you guys! Whatever destiny Redleaf speaks of,” she growled, eyeing him challengingly, “it will never change how I feel. I am willing to stand and fight with Risen.” 

“We believe you,” Blueflower assured her gently, glaring at Redleaf, as if daring him to say otherwise. “I’m not sure what destiny you speak of, but Sedgestrike is on our side.” 

Redleaf frowned, sighing abatedly. “Fine, fine… I will relent as much.” 

“As eventful as this meeting is,” Mothfur rumbled, “it cannot continue. It is passed sunhigh and we’ve yet to conduct our duties. There’s no need to draw more attention to ourselves than necessary.”

“Agreed,” Redleaf grunted. 

“Then it’s adjourned,” Mothfur decided. The older warrior left without another word, silently stalking back to the palmettos with his head held low. 

“I guess we should get back to hunting, huh?” Molefoot realized, grumbling. Littlebrook joined them, nodding solemnly. Neither seemed excited to return to their duties. 

Sedgestrike watched Risen slowly dissipate, stirred by their closeness. Gingerstep quickly ran after Mothfur, murmuring to him gently. Littlebrook and Molefoot’s fur was touching as they left together, talking amongst themselves quietly. 

“All of us are bound by our losses,” Blueflower mewed to Sedgestrike, coming to stand by her side as they watched the cats leave. “Our shared pain creates binds deeper than blood, and when one of us gets hurt or… worse… it--it really shakes us.” 

“You should be able to live fearlessly,” Sedgestrike grumbled. “I never knew I didn’t have the freedom to question until I realized I was too afraid to do so in the first place.” 

“We’re going to change that,” Blueflower promised, brushing against her. The sweet scent of her fur soothed Sedgestrike. “Together.” 

Sedgestrike nodded. “Together.” 

As Blueflower took her leave, Sedgestrike was painfully aware of Redleaf lingering behind her. She turned to see the medicine cat watching her like one would watch a rat curled up in their path. She curled her lip at him, knowing he was about to say something that would piss her off again. 

“What are you planning?” he growled. “These cats are working hard to make a difference.” 

“I want to help them!” she hissed, exasperated. “Why is that so hard for you to believe?” 

“Because you were born to do the exact opposite.” 

Sedgestrike flinched, stricken by his words. “My destiny is my own. Nothing and no one can change that.” 

“Easier said than done,” Redleaf spat. “Don’t mistake your stubbornness for bravery. Your actions could cost these cats their lives.” 

“Their lives are already on the line everyday Whitestar is in power,” Sedgestrike pointed out. 

“Oh, and you, her modeled pet, will be the one to stop her?” Redleaf sneered. “I think you underestimate just how deep the claws of the Eternal Night have sunken into you.”

“The only one underestimating anything is you, Redleaf,” Sedgestrike retorted threateningly. “You’re paranoid.” 

Redleaf moved so quickly, Sedgestrike could barely blink before he was upon her, staring her down, only a whisker’s length away. “You hear Their voices, don’t you?” he whispered hoarsely. The fear in his eyes had grown raw, rotting like carrion in the sockets. “You see Them in your dreams. You cannot sleep a wink without Them being there, waiting.” He chuckled humorlessly. “You are as much Their slave as I am. No matter how much we try to fight it… We cannot escape,” his rasping voice was a ghostly whisper. 

Sedgestrike shoved him away, hissing. “You’re insane. If anyone is going to bring ruin to Risen, it’s you. You may be scared, you may have given up, but I’m still here, and I’m ready to fight.” 

Turning her back on the medicine cat, she heard his cackle as she ran back into the pine forest. It sounded like tree branches creaking in the wind, chasing after her. “Mark my words, Sedgestrike!” Redleaf cried out. “The only one you will be saving in the end is yourself! You should’ve left when you had the chance!”


	32. Cito fit quod dii volunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What the gods want happens soon."
> 
> _— Gaius Petronius, 1st cent. AD, Roman writer_

WHEN did the darkness end? When did it begin? Those questions revolved in Sedgestrike’s head as she walked through the night, rotating slowly and perpetually and inevitably like the planets around the sun. The marsh around her was cloaked in black, disguising every tree and bush in a sheet so thick it made individual leaves indistinguishable from one another. Shadows, dark masses, inky silhouettes, she was immersed in a world void of color, and it was breathing. There was life in the blackness and it was staring. 

_What am I doing here?_

She didn’t remember getting into bed. She didn’t even remember the sun setting. The day itself was a blur, melted by the scorching heat and smeared by her frustrations like milk against hot stone left to curdle into oblivion. 

Sedgestrike’s thoughts seemed louder than usual as she trounced through the black marsh. Mud slicked her legs, almost all the way up to her shoulders, slowing her. It grew thicker as she travelled deeper, but she didn’t falter. She didn’t know where she was going, but she didn’t care, she just had to keep going. 

“You’re cute when you’re lost in thought,” purred Pikestar from above. He was resting lazily along a skeletal branch. A lopsided smile spread on his freckled face. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Sedgestrike could hear rustling overhead as Pikestar hopped from branch to branch like an excited crow staring down at something shiny. She ignored him even as he caused some leaves to rain down onto her fur. They felt brittle and rough. Dead. 

“You know you can’t leave.” He laughed mockingly at her, making her expression twitch as anger picked at her skin. 

The mud grew more dense as she trudged on, caking around her legs and squeezing against her movements. Sedgestrike hissed under her breath as she struggled to move. I need to keep walking. Staying in one place too long here is dangerous. 

Pikestar snickered at her struggle. His gleaming yellow eyes watched her like a spider watches an insect caught in its web. Sliding down the crooked tree trunk of a mangrove, he tottered at the knee of its gnarled root that stretched out beside Sedgestrike. “I must say, your acting skills are superb.”

Sedgestrike gave him a baleful sideways glance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she growled. 

“Telling Risen you’d help them!” Pikestar clarified animatedly, laughing. “As if you’d ever do anything to betray the Eternal Night.” His eyes gleamed dangerously, daring her to rebuke him. 

Sedgestrike bristled. “I meant every word,” she murmured carefully, keeping her voice level. 

There was a pause from Pikestar then. Sedgestrike tried to lift her paw out of the mud and press on, but her movement only made her legs sink deeper. The muck was almost up to her shoulders now. Her eyes darted wildly, looking for something she could use as leverage to heave herself out of the thickening marsh, but everything was out of reach. 

“Do you think this is a game?” Pikestar hissed.

“No. Games are usually fun, and I’m not having fun,” Sedgestrike retorted sardonically. 

Pikestar hissed again, raising a paw as if to strike her, but he thought better of it and resigned himself to sigh. “You cannot escape your fate, Sedgestrike. I’ve tried to help you.” 

For once, Pikestar sounded serious. Sedgestrike looked at him quizzically, seeing genuine disappointment on his face. “I don’t need your help. I know what I’m doing, and it’s not serving cats like you.” Her defiance was unbridled, galloping into Pikestar forcefully.

He met her gaze, eyes glinting. “Very well… Then the Eternal Night will no longer grant you the freedom you’ve been blessed with thus far. It is time we take matters into our own paws.” Pikestar lifted his chin, looking much more like a wise leader than he ever did. “You’re young, reckless, we should’ve known better than to entrust you with our plans so completely. I suppose our faith in you blinded us to your faults…” 

Sedgestrike snorted. “Poor you.” 

Pikestar’s expression hardened. “You should’ve been wiser and stayed in our good graces, Sedgestrike. The waking world will become unbearable if you make enemies of us.”

Sedgestrike tried to heave herself away from him, but the mud flooded her. She whimpered, feeling the weight of it crushing into her chest. Pikestar watched her struggle with piqued interest. She was nothing but a puny insect caught in his web, flailing against the trap vainly as he closed in on her. 

“You’ll come to realize your purpose soon enough,” he assured her, smirking. “You just need a little extra push, it seems.” He chuckled deviously. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of that for you.” 

Sedgestrike wheezed out a breath as the mud continued to suck her under. Cold and foul-smelling, she gagged as it closed in around her throat, leaving only her head above the surface. Her lungs were being squeezed painfully by the pressure, until she only had a memory of fresh air left. 

“I think it’s time you realize who you really are,” Pikestar mewed silkily, watching with pleasure creasing the corners of his eyes as Sedgestrike wailed breathlessly. She was inevitably consumed by the thick mud. It sucked her under into a spiral of darkness that funneled her into a chilling, suffocating place. 

Her body began to shake. The movements were not by her own will. It was too dark to see anything but blackness. Whatever noise she was hearing was muffled. It sounded fuzzy, like someone was speaking into thick fur. Breathe, she told herself. Just breathe. But she could not. Her lungs screamed for air but the pressure around her convulsing body was so great that her lips were clamped shut. It wasn’t until she pried her eyes open that the world around her blazed back to life in magnificent colors of indigo and silver. She was staring at the starry night sky. A loud gasp escaped her and she shot up, breathing rapidly and trembling. She was alive. She drank in the air greedily, never so thankful to be able to breathe. Meanwhile, she noticed Zinniablossom was staring down at her like she had grown a second head.

“Sheesh, What’s got you all worked up?” she mewed snidely, turning her nose up. Sedgestrike gaped at her speechlessly, and Zinniablossom snorted impatiently at her. “Come with me. Whitestar wishes to speak with the paragons.” 

It didn’t take long for Sedgestrike to fight to breathe again. Whitestar. The one cat she was determined to avoid requested her presence. Rising to her paws shakily, she gulped a strangled breath, feeling her heart thunder in her chest. It drowned out the sounds of soft snores and dreamy breaths of the sleeping cats around her with a ceaseless ringing. 

Sedgestrike followed Zinniablossom with heavy paws. She tiptoed carefully around the resting warriors, noticing several empty nests, all belonging to the members of the Order. A lump grew in her throat. A meeting in the dead of night? Something was urgent. Her mind immediately went to the cats that belonged to Risen, all sleeping soundly around her. Did Whitestar find them out? 

Stepping into the clearing, Sedgestrike was greeted by a night drenched in humidity. Moisture beaded the leaves of the plants around her, which drooped, tired from facing a long day of blistering heat. Unlike the marsh of her dreams, the waking world maintained its color, greens and blues and purples blended with the shadows and held a silvery sheen in the alabaster moonlight. Crickets chirped happily, relishing the sticky night air like a kit would its mother’s milk. Sedgestrike felt the eyes of several cats on her at once, glinting white with the glare of the moon. The paragons were waiting. 

“That’s everyone, then,” Spiderfang observed with satisfaction. “Whitestar is waiting by Mother Lake with Redleaf. Let’s not keep them waiting any longer.” 

The small group of cats followed their deputy towards the shore of the massive lake, Sedgestrike among them. She was careful to shuffle to the back of the paragons, head hanging low. She was not sure what was worse: sleeping and dreaming of the Place of Eternal Night or waking and being among the Order of the Destined Paragons. 

She noticed Batface was beside her, walking in step with her, staring ahead with an unreadable expression. “What’s going on?” she asked him in a whisper. 

“I’m not sure.” Batface shrugged, his scarred muzzle twitched as if he was being prodded by a painful memory. “Nights like these, when Whitestar calls upon us, usually mean she’s unmasked a traitor.” 

Sedgestrike felt bile rise up from the back of her throat. Risen was found. Just as she thought she could help them. She wondered which of the paragons spotted her among them. Her mind immediately went to Longscar. She found the dark gray tabby walked ahead alongside Zinniablossom. His tortoiseshell mate was leaned in close, murmuring. From where Sedgestrike could see, it looked as if she was talking to the long, ugly scar that mangled him from his neck to his hind. 

“What does she do… when she’s found someone?” Sedgestrike mewed hoarsely. Her mouth had suddenly become very dry. It hurt to swallow. 

“In these meetings, she will assign paragons to handle the traitors once the trial commences and after.” Batface’s explanation was robotic, unfeeling. 

Sedgestrike wondered how many times Batface attended meetings like these. She wondered how many times he was assigned to “handle” traitors. Her stomach flipped, sloshing uncomfortably as she walked. Her own mentor, one she had come to admire and respect, was probably a murderer. The realization cause her to walk slower as her mind struggled to think and make her legs move simultaneously. 

“Keep up,” Batface urged as she lagged, eyeing her in confusion. A chuckle escaped him. “It’s not that far. Are you still half asleep?”

Sedgestrike was staring at the ground, not even walking anymore. The reeds that surrounded her petted her thick fur as a cool breeze wafted by, but she was too numb to feel them. 

“How many?” she asked softly. 

“How many what?” Batface pressed, voice becoming more firm. 

“How many traitors were you… ‘assigned’ to?” she demanded in a firm whisper. 

Batface’s orange eyes glistened with emotion, but his jaw was set and his posture went rigid. “I had the honor of being assigned to many,” he answered proudly. Only the slightest hesitation in his voice led Sedgestrike to believe he was not being entirely truthful. 

“What did you do to them if they were convicted?” 

“If?” Batface scoffed, shaking his head bitterly. “No one is ever innocent once they’ve been called a traitor. These trials… they’re just a formality.” He explained this to her as if she was still a naive apprentice. “You should know this by now. A traitor is a traitor. It doesn’t matter what they say.”

Sedgestrike was impaled by his words. The warrior before her was a stranger. “How could you say that?” She searched his face for the guilt, the sadness, but she could not read him. “What about justice?” 

Batface’s expression soured. “You really think the cats in power believe in justice? They only believe in their own laws and their own vision of order… they only believe in themselves. They are the ones that know best; everyone else must follow. And anyone that conflicts with their ideal society? They don’t exist.” His eyes were half-shut as he spoke, thoughtful. “That is the creation of peace: the absolute absence of conflict.” His rasping voice was barely above a whisper. “There is no conflict if all those that oppose her are gone.”

“How could you still support her knowing that?” Sedgestrike felt like running. She felt like running far, far away and not looking back. “Peace is—it’s not what this is!”

“You ask that as if I have a choice in who I support or not.” Batface narrowed his eyes. “Whitestar is our leader. No matter how you feel, that will never change. In order to maintain the comfort we have grown so accustomed to, we must obey . There is no choice. I am a warrior, and so are you, and we are to support our leader until we die. And as a paragon… your duty is even more dire. You are a patron of the Eternal Night”

Sedgestrike was ready to leave. She had to go somewhere, anywhere, so long as it was not at the foot of Mother Lake with the Order. Hearing Batface speak the way he did made her sick. 

“I—I can’t do this,” she stammered, stumbling as he moved backwards. “This is insane.” 

Batface opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Spiderfang emerged from the reeds, looking flustered. “There you guys are!” he exclaimed in exasperation. “Come, come. Whitestar is waiting on you two!” 

Sedgestrike was frozen. It wasn’t until Batface came to her and shoved her from behind that she began to work her legs again. “Just stay calm,” he urged her through gritted teeth. “Don’t snap on me now. This’ll be over soon.” 

Pushing through the cluster of reeds that framed the lake, Sedgestrike found the rest of the Order waiting for her and Batface on the sandy shore. They were sitting nearly and quietly before Whitestar, who looked like a beacon in the night. Her pale fur burned bright like the moon, illuminated by its shine, and her amber eyes shone like flames. On either side of her the cats sat facing her in orderly rows, forming an aisle to her front. 

“Sedgestrike,” she greeted coolly. “Step forth.” 

Sedgestrike hesitated, watching Spiderfang and Batface leave to sit among the rest. Meanwhile, she was left alone, staring straight at Whitestar. At first, she felt fear, it was icy cold, becoming a chill up her spine. This was it. Someone saw her with Risen. She was the traitor. She was next. Then, something inside her sparked. Rage. Resentment. Resistance. Whitestar was the embodiment of the entity that was determined to ruin her life, the force that would kill her friends and family, and reduce MarshClan to spineless waste: The Place of Eternal Night. Her feelings flooded her with an inferno, setting every muscle aflame inside her. She raised her chin and walked proudly towards her leader, tail high. If she was the one that was going to be accused, she would fight it, she would fight it to the death. 

She came and stood before Whitestar. The night seemed very quiet suddenly. Very still. Her eyes were locked with Whitestar, blazing. She refused to turn and face the rest of the Order as her leader started to speak. 

“My trusted paragons,” Whitestar began, not taking her eyes off Sedgestrike. “It has been brought to my attention that there is a cat among us with a very special destiny.” 

Sedgestrike’s blood ran cold. _Wait._

“She was born on a moonless night, when the sky was at its blackest along with her siblings to a queen that refuted her calling to StarClan. She was given the power, the fury, of all the greatest paragons before her.”

_No, wait. This can’t be happening._

“There is a prophecy that echoes the will of the Eternal Night. A revolution against the stars. Our many moons of work will soon pay off.” Whitestar’s words reverberated with ecstasy. She was waiting for this release for a long time. Sedgestrike’s birth was the confirmation that all the horrible things she had done were right. That she would win. “I give you one of the three that we will need to rid of StarClan forever. Her name? Sedgestrike.”

At first, there was silence. Sedgestrike slowly turned, seeing the eyes of the paragons on her, glinting with awe and interest. Once she turned to them, they began to yowl and cheer. 

“Sedgestrike! Sedgestrike! Sedgestrike!” They chanted proudly, excitement rattling through the air loudly. 

Sedgestrike found Redleaf in the crowd. He had to have told Whitestar. This was his fault. Her eyes were crazed with panic, but when she found the medicine cat, she was shocked to see his expression mirrored her own. This was not his doing. He met her eyes and shook his head. If Sedgestrike acted out now, she would surely be killed. She struggled to reign herself in. She had to resist the urge to screech her hatred for everything and everyone. Instead, she soaked in the praise until she felt full and soggy with it. 

Whitestar came to stand by her side, looking out at the cheering paragons with a proud smile. “The birth of three who were not meant to be will give rise to revolution,” she quoted the prophecy with chilling exhilaration. She felt Whitestar’s eyes burn into her, but she refused to meet her leader’s glare. “You don’t understand how many moons we’ve waited for this. For you.” Her voice was low, the words meant only for her. The passion was sickening as she continued. “Finally, we can stop StarClan. You and your siblings are living proof of the Eternal Night’s rise.”

Sedgestrike lowered her eyes, staring at the sand that swirled in the breeze. “The prophecy you speak of…” She spoke coolly, her mind gone numb. Denial swept through her, rigid and cold, and she pretended to be clueless. “It doesn’t mention any power. It doesn’t even mention me. How can you be certain?” 

As they spoke, Spiderfang was riling up the crowd with raucous crows. They were celebrating, but Sedgestrike knew they were just as confused as she. How could three cats conquer StarClan? If only they knew how long Sedgestrike had to wrestle with the thought. 

“Don’t be so humble,” Whitestar chided. “I know because our ancestors that exist in the Eternal Night came to me, whispering of you. Great visions flooded my head of you conquering the Fallen and supporting my endeavors to cleanse our land. I’m both excited and curious to learn of your siblings’ roles.”

“By cleanse, do you mean kill?” Sedgestrike asked candidly.

Whitestar mistook her cold response as bloodthirst. She hissed with anticipation. “Of course. How else would we prosper? If our land is tarnished by those that oppose us, there can be no victory. Our reign must be absolute.”

Sedgestrike felt the gnawing urge to rake her claws across Whitestar’s face. Cleansing the land meant killing not only the Fallen, but Risen as well. Her mind immediately went to Blueflower. “What if there’s no one left?”

Whitestar chuckled. Again, she mistook the growing rage in her voice for bloodthirst. “Temper yourself, Sedgestrike. You can’t have them all.” She looked to the cheering cats once more. Their cries had died down to an excited tremor, which shook their pelts and widened their eyes. “Trust me, there will be plenty that follow. We aren’t going to give them a choice. Besides, where else would they have to go?”

Sedgestrike nodded once. It was all becoming painfully clear. She had to fight. There was no way out. Her muscles tensed, her body wanting to leap into combat more and more with every thunderous heartbeat. If MarshClan was to survive, Whitestar would have to be removed. Without her control on the paragons, they had no one to follow—but wait, what about Spiderfang? Sedgestrike’s eyes darted wildly to the deputy. And Longscar? Sedgestrike found the warrior speaking excitedly to Zinniablossom and Kiteclaw. Grayjaw and Claytooth were murderers as well. But what about Batface? Her mentor that guided her all this time... Her mind began to race. Would she have to kill them all? Was that her only option? No… there had to be another way. 

_Just fulfill the prophecy, a voice whispered in her head. Be who you are destined to be…_

_No! I will never. I could never…_

_It’s your destiny._

“This is obviously a miracle in the works!” Whitestar called out, capturing the attention of the crowd again. Sedgestrike was grateful to have a break from her thoughts. “We will work together to realize the prophecy and enable Sedgestrike and her siblings to do their part as well. If anyone has any qualms,” she paused, giving them all a warning glare. “They are to speak to me.” 

“The meeting is adjourned!” Spiderfang declared upon receiving a decisive nod from Whitestar. Slowly, the cats began to file back towards camp, talking rapidly amongst themselves in excitement. 

Sedgestrike watched them depart, unwilling to join them despite receiving many encouraging stares from her fellow paragons. Whitestar hesitated outside the brim of reeds, glancing back at Sedgestrike with a smile. “I knew there was something about you. It’s a peculiar thing… for you to grow this old before I actually receive a prophecy in regards to your birth,” she mewed. Her expression suddenly darkened, eyes narrowing into slits. “Do not fail me.” 

Sedgestrike nodded and bowed her head deeply to her leader. “How could I ever?” she rumbled solemnly. 

Pleased by her response, Whitestar left with a flick of her tail, disappearing into the reeds. Spiderfang leapt after her, beaming. 

Only her and Redleaf remained, and Sedgestrike got an odd sense of deja vu. The stocky medicine cat came to her, his low-hanging belly dragging across the sand. “This is bad,” he rasped. “Very bad.” 

“I can’t believe this is happening.” She looked to him desperately, wanting his rationality to soothe her. “Why did They tell her, after all this time?” 

“Because you are not bending to Their will,” Redleaf sputtered, plopping into the dust in defeat. His thick haunches disturbed the sand into a cloud around him. “I should’ve seen this coming. The Place of Eternal Night have been pressuring me to steer you in the right direction and proclaim the prophecy to Whitestar for moons now. I knew their patience would wear thin, but—but I just thought they’d take it out on me. I thought I’d be smited or cursed, but this… this is infinitely worse.” 

Sedgestrike listened to his frightened stammers, feeling a pang of sympathy for her medicine cat, though she knew he didn’t deserve it. “Instead of punishing you, they’re punishing both of us by giving Whitestar the confidence in her plan, the confidence in me. If I go against her now… it’d be the end of me and my siblings.” 

“She can’t force you to do anything if you aren’t here to do it,” Redleaf pointed out. They met each other’s eyes at that, and Sedgestrike felt her insides churn. “If you refuse to fulfill the prophecy, Whitestar will destroy everyone you care about until you break. She won’t stop until she gets what she wants.”

Sedgestrike stared down at her paws. She was backed into a corner. Her options were to run, fight, or accept her destiny. The only option that would spare as many lives as possible was to run. “But where? Run where?”

Redleaf stared across Mother Lake. Its reflection shone in his tired yellow eyes. “You can stay with the Fallen,” he decided, voice husky with many moons of stress culminating into one singular stone in his throat. It sounded painful for him to speak, he could barely utter a word. “You—you and your siblings will be safe there. Risen already spoke of you to them. You’re an ally. They will not turn you three away.” 

“But—But what about my mother?” She hesitated, heart clenching. “Any my father… what would he think?”

Redleaf sighed shakily. “I’ll take care of them. Risen will too. We will watch over your parents, Sedgestrike, I promise.” His gaze was pleading now as she looked at him. “The most important thing is that you three stay safe. If Whitestar sees her one hope to defeat StarClan and their believers disappears, she may lose her nerve. It’s a gamble, but…” Redleaf shrugged shaking his head. “The alternative is far worse.”

Sedgestrike snorted, shaking her head bitterly. “I bet you regret not killing me when you had the chance.”

“I regret many things, but sparing you… is not one of them.” Redleaf’s voice was stiff but resolute. He stared at her with solemn resignation. “I must admit, I was fearful of you at first. However, after seeing how you stirred such hope in Risen’s hearts, and after seeing your determination to do the right thing, I’ve come to believe that you’re better off alive.” He paused, breathing shakily. “Maybe, just maybe, you can overcome this and change your fate.” He shook his head as if the thought were almost too insane to speak. 

“I’m never going to give up,” Sedgestrike promised. “This prophecy cannot be fulfilled. I won’t allow it.”

Redleaf eyed her nervously. It seemed he still had misgivings that he didn’t wish to share, but Sedgestrike didn’t press him. “You must convince your siblings to do the same,” he added warily.

Sedgestrike scoffed, “That won’t be easy. They don’t even believe in the prophecy.” 

Narrowing his eyes, Redleaf didn’t seem convinced. “It’s their lives on the line now,” he muttered. “I’ll make arrangements with the Fallen. I’ll have them meet you at the border and escort you to safety on their land.” 

“What’ll I tell my littermates?” she asked, suddenly queasy with nerves. “They’ll never leave MarshClan.”

“I’ll help you with that too. I’ll speak to Fernstream and all three of us can explain to them what must be done.”

Sedgestrike nodded, uncertainty making her squirm. 

“It’s for their own good,” Redleaf assured her. His voice was soft. It was the nurturing, comforting voice she recognized him by before she knew a prophecy about her existed. “They don’t have a choice if they want to live. Not believing in the prophecy is just as lethal as not wanting to fulfill it.”


	33. Conspiracy

TIME was the eternal enemy. It rolled forward mercilessly while Sedgestrike remained powerless to stop it. The times that have passed cannot not be changed, the times to come cannot be foreseen. So, Sedgestrike was left to bide, collecting time ravenously until the day she longed for arrived: the day of her departure. The worst part? She didn’t even know what day that was. Only last night she found out she would need to leave. Now, she was strapped with the nauseating burden of the unknown. When would she leave? Would her siblings come with her? Would the Fallen accept them? Would the escape be successful? A mountain of uncertainties rode on her back. Her spine felt like a branch being sat on by a boulder. 

The weight of it all would be more tolerable if the rest of MarshClan was just as troubled. Then, maybe, she could gripe to her comrades and have someone to wallow in misery with. Instead, she watched them go about their day unbothered. Spiderfang was organizing another hunting party. Lilypaw seemed especially excited, having grown long and limber, she excelled at bringing back large bounties of fresh-kill. She could’ve brought back an entire deer and Mothfur would still have the same flat expression he always had, and currently had as he stood beside her. Otternose, however, seemed less than enthralled about going hunting with such an enthusiastic apprentice so early in the morning. Shaleheart seemed to find her irritation amusing. 

Sedgestrike felt her heart pang as she watched her father prepare to leave for the hunt. His mottled brown fur looked a lot like sleek but tarnished gold in the sunlight, and his golden eyes shone bright. He didn’t even meet Sedgestrike’s gaze as they passed by her, leaving in a troop, and Sedgestrike felt the pang swelter into a stabbing feeling. As far as he knew, she didn’t mate with Blueflower, so why was he still treating her like she didn’t exist? 

Sedgestrike swiped at the grass as she continued to rest in the shade. As promised, she was given the day off for “volunteering” to be sentinel yesterday. If there was ever a day she wished for her mind to be occupied, it was today. Being blessed with such generous free time felt more like a punishment. 

Ospreyflight’s oaky, earthy scent neared her, and Sedgestrike saw her friend emerging from the sawgrass, returning from the dawn patrol with Fogspots and Hollyfoot. 

Meeting her stare, Ospreyflight smiled and trotted up to Sedgestrike. Her yellow eyes glowed. “Hey,” she greeted, before hesitating. “How—uh—how are—uhm, things?”

Sedgestrike narrowed her eyes, confused. “They’re fine.” Then she realized that Ospreyflight had to have heard she didn’t become mates with Blueflower. “All things considered…” she added mildly.

Ospreyflight lowered her gaze, looking sheepish. “I’m… sorry it didn’t go as planned.” 

It felt bad to lie to her best friend, but Sedgestrike had no choice. The less she knew, the better. “It happens.” She shrugged, wanting to change the subject. “How was the patrol? I heard you led it.” 

Ospreyflight sighed breezily and sat beside her, relaxing after the change of subject. “Not too bad. We thought we caught a scent trail of one of the Fallen, but it died along the river bank.” She began to groom her shoulder, speaking nonchalantly between licks. “And Hollyfoot kept falling behind. She still hasn’t adjusted to normal warrior duties since leaving the nursery.” 

“Well, she could always go back. I’m sure Claytooth would be thrilled to keep his pride going,” Sedgestrike pointed out sarcastically. 

Ospreyflight laughed. “Great StarClan, I don’t think I can have more of his mini-mes running around.” 

Sedgestrike rolled her eyes. “Foxpaw isn’t that bad! He was a sweet kit.”

“Was… You should’ve seen him while you all were gone for the festival. He was ordering Hawthornkit and Magnoliakit around like a bonafide leader!” Ospreyflight exclaimed, exasperated. 

“They start so young. Just wait,soon he’ll be a great warrior, just like his father,” Sedgestrike mused whimsically before gagging at the thought. Her and Ospreyflight both started laughing together. Sedgestrike didn’t remember the last time she laughed like this with her friend. It felt good. Normal. She needed normal. 

Ospreyflight noticed Sedgestrike’s laughter peter out. Her brows furrowed with concern. “I’m sure there’s a lot on your mind. Do… you want to talk about it?” Her offer was polite, but Sedgestrike noticed the strain in her voice; she knew her friend struggled to talk about feelings. She would rather talk about the best hunting strategy or the latest political stunt from Whitestar. 

Regardless, she knew she could never tell Ospreyflight anything. Soon, she would never be able to talk to Ospreyflight again. Her heart fell out of her chest. “Don’t… don’t worry about it. I’m fine, really.” Her lie was coated with pain, delivering it was just as taxing as thinking it. 

“Sedgestrike…”

She felt her chest caving in. “Ospreyflight, I promise. I’m okay.” She smiled weakly, and her friend’s eyes flashed with hurt. She knew that although her friend wasn’t good about discussing emotions, it still wounded her to not be able to help. “You’re too good to me,” Sedgestrike muttered. “I’m very lucky to have a friend like you.” 

“You’re saying that like having a friend like you makes me unlucky,” Ospreyflight pointed out critically. “You’re an awesome cat, Sedgestrike.”

“I know you’re going to do great things. You’re smart and patient and methodical. You can think on your toes. You can reign yourself in.” Sedgestrike reeled off her praise breathlessly like she was running out of time to say it, and she was. She didn’t know when or if she’d get the chance to say these things again. “You’re going to succeed. You’re going to win against whatever it is you’re trying to overcome.”

Ospreyflight was speechless, staring at Sedgestrike with wide eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but then shut it, turning her head to the clearing where MarshClan cats went about their day peacefully. “Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?” she said at last. 

Sedgestrike also turned to watch the cats go about their day. They were just pieces now, particles in the atmosphere moving in and out of her vision aimlessly and purposefully all at once. “I don’t know,” she murmured, in a daze. “I’m going through a lot. It makes me say weird things. There’s just too much to explain, so much that I don’t even know how to begin or put it into words.”

“Then… just—just, like, I don’t know… Start small? Maybe give a sentence or two?” Ospreyflight pleaded, stumbling in her attempt to get something out of her. “Something. Anything.” 

“I can’t.” Sedgestrike stood, seeing Fernstream leave the medicine den of marigold. Her mother had to have spoken to Redleaf. 

“Where are you going?” Ospreyflight asked. “You haven’t even touched your sparrow.”

“You can have it,” Sedgestrike mewed absently. She had forgotten she even plucked the bird from the fresh-kill pile. “I… need to speak to Fernstream.” 

“Wait!” Ospreyflight called out, reaching for Sedgestrike. “Just…” 

Sedgestrike turned to her, finding her with wide, scared eyes and a face stretched stressfully. 

“Just tell me you’ll be okay!” she demanded. 

Sedgestrike smiled apologetically. “I already have.” 

Without allowing Ospreyflight to continue, she dashed off to see Fernstream. Her mother was taking to the shade near the elders den, and Sedgestrike could hear her labored breathing. Redleaf must have told her everything. 

“Fernstream,” Sedgestrike mewed. 

Her mother turned, green eyes glistening. “Oh, Sedgestrike!” She gasped, embracing her. Sedgestrike breathed in her scent, pressing her face into her shoulder. “Redleaf told me, he told me what happened, I—“ She shook her head, having lost her ability to speak. Broken, sobbing noises came from her, soft enough not to be heard by the cats still in camp. 

“Fernstream,” Sedgestrike whispered. “Mom… It’s going to be okay. Redleaf said—“

“I know what he said,” she snapped, voice thick with emotion. “That doesn’t make it okay. You shouldn’t have to do this. It’s all my fault. I was so selfish. I should’ve left with you three a long time ago.” 

“Mom,” Sedgestrike whimpered. Seeing Fernstream in such a fragile state was rare. In fact, she never had seen her mother look so broken. She was shaking in her fur. Her green eyes glittered with sadness. She couldn’t articulate without her voice breaking. “What matters is that we will be safe over there. Whitestar won’t be able to touch us.”

“You’re right,” Fernstream relented. “You’re right.” Her composure slowly returned. She was no longer shaking and her eyes became clear. She returned to the fierce she-cat Sedgestrike knew, one that would do anything for her kits. “It has to be this way. It must.” 

“I’m going to miss you,” Sedgestrike whispered. This time, her voice broke with emotion. 

Fernstream gave her a hard stare. “There’s nothing to miss,” she corrected firmly. “I’m going with you three.” 

Sedgestrike’s eyes widened. “You’re what?” 

Her mother lifted her chin defiantly. “I’m coming with you three,” she reiterated. “I’ll be with you. I’ll always be with you. No one and nothing will take that from me.”

At first, Sedgestrike was thrilled. One less cat to say goodbye to, but then she felt fear. Escaping MarshClan was risky. They could easily be caught and brought in for interrogation. A whole family trying to leave MarshClan was suspicious enough to cause alarm and, consequently, punishment. 

“But what about Shaleheart?” Sedgestrike realized. “Is he coming?” 

Fernstream’s expression fell again. Her eyes regained their sorrowful gleam. “We can’t risk it. There’s a chance he wouldn’t understand.” She looked up at Sedgestrike, and the pain in her mother’s eyes seared her. “I love him, but I love you three more than anything. I will always choose my kits. One day, Shaleheart will know the truth and be able to make of it what he can. Today is not that day.”

“I promise, I’ll find a way to change things,” Sedgestrike vowed softly. “We will be able to come home again.” 

Fernstream smiled. “I believe in you, Sedgestrike.” 

Sedgestrike returned the smile. “I know you do.” 

“We need to find your siblings,” Fernstream mewed urgently. “Are they still in camp?” 

“I believe so, why?” Sedgestrike replied, confused by the sudden urgency. 

“Because Redleaf said we are leaving tonight.”

“What?!” Sedgestrike froze when her outburst caught the attention of the queens sunbathing outside the nursery. She lowered her voice immediately, leaning in to whisper, “He made arrangements for tonight?”

“Yes,” Fernstream hissed. “Once he realized I refused to let you three leave without me, he decided the sooner the better, to avoid the risk.” 

Sedgestrike nodded, melting from her initial shock. It made sense. Again, time was the enemy. “Okay…” 

“Go to Redleaf, he’ll tell you where to meet us. I’m going to get Yewbranch and Mudpaw.”

Sedgestrike nodded, hurrying to the medicine den. She hesitated at its entrance, smacked by the potent aroma of marigold. The inky shadows within were alive, shuddering. The last time she was in the medicine den alone with Redleaf, he attempted to poison her. She had to remind herself they were on the same side; back then, he saw her as nothing more than a prophesied rebel. Things were different now. 

“Redleaf, it’s Sedgestrike,” she announced, stepping into the den. The silence within swallowed her. Speaking felt inappropriate in a space so quiet. “Fernstream told me to come to you.”

“Oh, did she?” 

The voice was not Redleaf’s. Emerging from the coolest, darkest depths of the den, where the rich-smelling herbs were stored, was the slinky, blue-gray frame of Heronpaw. His icy blue eyes glinted with suspicion. “What are you doing in here?” 

Sedgestrike faced the apprentice with a hardened glare. “I’m here to see Redleaf,” she repeated firmly. This was bad. Where was Redleaf? 

Heronpaw narrowed his eyes. “For what? He’s busy.”

Refusing to budge under his scrutiny, Sedgestrike rose her chin. “This is a private family matter,” she affirmed. “Between him and I.”

“Fill me in then,” Heronpaw countered, huffing. The slightest twitch in his eyes betrayed his frustration. “He probably won’t be back for awhile.”

“And where did he go?” 

Heronpaw shrugged, rolling his eyes. “He went out.” 

“Heronpaw, this is serious,” Sedgestrike growled. “It’s… my mother. She’s sick.” 

Heronpaw’s large ears pricked. His icy blue eyes burned with curiosity. “Sick?” His nostrils flared as he spoke. “I smell no sickness in her. She was just in here. Her scent is normal.”

“It’s… something else,” Sedgestrike feigned worry. “Redleaf said he knew of the illness, mentioned it being something archaic.”

“Hmm, an older disease. Something we probably haven’t seen in awhile,” Heronpaw thought aloud. The words slithered off his tongue with enthusiasm. “I wonder what it could be? Is there a cure? They were muttering about something before… I wish I knew then it was about an illness.” 

Sedgestrike fidgeted from where she stood, growing impatient. “This is urgent, Heronpaw,” she reminded him. “Please. Where did he go?” 

Heronpaw sighed, rolling his eyes. Sedgestrike hid her smirk; it seemed her desperation appealed to him. “He went out to the Great Cypress. Mentioned something about gathering herbs.” 

“Excellent,” Sedgestrike hissed. “Thank you!” She hurried out of the den with a smile. As she left, she felt Heronpaw’s eyes bore into her until she was out of sight. 

Briskly, she trotted for the wall of sawgrass. Her stomach flopped when she saw the guards on duty: Grayjaw and Claytooth. The two burly tomcats were sitting studiously, watching over the camp like solemn statues. Sedgestrike slowed her pace, trying to look casual. 

“Where are you off to?” Grayjaw grunted, eyeing her curiously. 

“It’s my day off… thought I’d go stretch my legs.” Sedgestrike shrugged, trying to sound bored though it felt like she had ants in her pelt. When Grayjaw didn’t take his eyes off of her, she felt a prick of annoyance. “Got a problem with that?”

“N-no! Not at all!” he blustered, averting his eyes. He sounded embarrassed, and he kept his protruding chin tucked in a vain attempt to hide it. 

“Don’t let her get to you, Grayjaw,” Claytooth snorted. “She’s still a warrior like the rest of us.” His eyes fell on Sedgestrike, glinting in amusement. “He’ll get over it. It won’t be long before he remembers how to act,” he assured her. 

At first, Sedgestrike gawked at Claytooth cluelessly. “O-oh, this is about… Wow.” She turned back to Grayjaw, shaking her head. “He’s right. I’m perfectly normal. Painfully normal,” she agreed. Yes, normal. Once I’m out of here I can get back to being normal again. 

“B-but the prophe—“

“Shut up, you mousebrain! That’s only for us to know,” Claytooth snapped, eyes narrowed to slits. He turned to Sedgestrike, fixing his curled lip and giving her a benign nod. “Go ahead. Don’t mind him.”

Sedgestrike returned the nod, hurrying into the brush. The faintly sweet smell of cane caught her nose, smothering her with its sugary scent, and the fanged stalks of sawgrass greeted her by combing through her thick pelt. As she pushed through the rows, her paws felt mud squish between her toes. She was staring out at the open marsh now. It was freckled with swaying reeds and floating lily pads, their clusters having grown thick after the plentiful rains. Dragonflies glided through the air glinting with scales of gold and red and green and blue. 

Ushered forward by a warm breeze from behind, she crossed the marsh hastily. She knew sentinels would be scattered throughout the territory and that it would be best to avoid them. She was already doing a rotten job. As she splashed through the shallow waters, she caught the attention of Sandthroat.

The warrior was wrestling with a tangle of eelgrass. The long algae stuck to his leg like a spongy green leech. He was in the middle of cursing at it when Sedgestrike came across him. 

“Oh, Sedgestrike! Uh… how’s it?” Sandthroat greeted, smiling sheepishly. He flailed his ensnared arm in-between words. 

“Uh… just out for a stroll,” she explained, wrestling with a pesky leech of her own: her nerves. 

“Aye. Restlessness must run in the family. Your—uh—kin just passed by,” he said, shaking his leg violently. The eelgrass swirled up his limb higher the more he struggled. His attempt at ridding of it was just as sloppy as her and her family’s coordinated escape attempt. Was she going to be stopped by every cat in MarshClan before she got to their meeting point? 

“Here,” Sedgestrike offered, pushing away her annoyance. She leaned forward to tug at the algae with her outstretched claws. “Let me.”

She pulled Sandthroat free and he sighed with relief. “Aahhhh… that’s good, that’s good. Much obliged, Sedgestrike.” He gave her an amicable nod, smiling. “I’ll get back to work, then.”

“Try not to get attacked by any more eelgrass!” she called after him as he left. Once his pale ginger fur disappeared into the reeds, Sedgestrike hurried to the palmettos. 

The fanned fronds of the palmetto bushes smacked against Sedgestrike’s shoulders as she bustled through. The sentinel in this part of the territory was Littlebrook; she could smell the dappled she-cat’s rosy scent and was assured that she could pass through without having to worry about attracting too much attention. Littlebrook was likely in on the escape plan, since she was a member of Risen. Haphazardly, Sedgestrike crashed through the brush and into the pine forest. 

Her pelt bristled. Zinniablossom was patrolling here. Sedgestrike caught her scent in the air, nearly hidden within the thick aroma of pine. She strained her ears, having them swivel, wanting to hear where she may be. When nothing was heard, she spat a faint curse under her breath and snuck on. Her large paws stamped the cushy ground of pine needles, graciously muting the sound of her walking; Zinniablossom was likely just as streathly elsewhere. 

Hopping into a scrawny berry bush, Sedgestrike froze when she heard Zinniablossom growl. “What are you doing?” 

Sedgestrike froze, groaning inwardly. She turned, mouth open, ready to speak, but found Zinniablossom was snapping at someone else: Lilypaw. Her stark white fur shone clear as day among the earthy hues of the pine forest. 

The apprentice was facing Zinniablossom, having rose from a crouch. “I’m hunting. What’s it look like?” she mewed innocently, sounding a little too sweet to be genuine. 

Zinniablossom narrowed her eyes. “Obviously. I just wanted to let you know that your oddly white pelt will do you favors here,” she pointed out haughtily. “You stick out like a bump on a log.” 

“That may be so, but I’ll have you know I’m one of the best hunters of the apprentices,” Lilypaw retorted matter-of-factly. 

“Great… that means we’re doomed to starve.”

Sedgestrike rolled her eyes as the she-cats began bickering. There were definitely some cats she wouldn’t miss in MarshClan. As their argument became more heated, Sedgestrike slinked away, creeping from bush to bush until she was far enough not to be spotted. Their escalating quarrel echoed between the pines, and she could hear that it morphed from the topic of white fur to who was the better fighter. 

When the pine needles began to wane underfoot and bleed weakly into rich soil, Sedgestrike knew she was nearing the Great Cypress. Grass was free to grow without being smothered. Hardwood trees in the form of oaks and birches and maples became more numerous, filling the air with a rich earthy scent. Golden sunlight shone between the roof of leaves, illuminating Sedgestrike’s dark tabby fur as she walked through. Roots protruded from the ground like pulsating veins, coated with pelts of green moss. Sedgestrike stepped from root to root, seeing the broad trunk emerge between the trees. 

At the foot of the massive tree, she could see mother and siblings sitting and waiting. They were talking to Redleaf; the medicine cat was regarding them with a solemn visage. It wasn’t until he saw Sedgestrike approaching that he became studious and nodded a polite greeting to her. 

“Welcome,” Redleaf mewed. “I presume Heronpaw gave you a hard time? You’re arriving later than I expected.”

Sedgestrike nodded. “Give Heronpaw a chance to be difficult and he’ll take it.”

She joined the others, sitting between Yewbranch and Redleaf with a sigh. All the cats exchanged looks, waiting with bated breath and poker faces. No one seemed willing to start the conversation; they held their hand close. 

Mudpaw was the first to break. “Alright. What’s this all about?” he demanded. “I have to clean Cypressfang’s pelt before sunhigh, and he’ll have my tail if I’m late.”

“Mudpaw,” Redleaf began evenly. “You must know by now about the circumstances of your birth.”

Mudpaw was lashing his tail impatiently. He kept fidgeting, growing uncomfortable in his own fur. “Yeah,” he grumbled moodily. “Doesn’t the whole damn Clan?” He rolled his eyes and recounted the story lackadaisically, as if he’d retold it hundreds of times. “Fernstream was a medicine cat apprentice that fell for a warrior. She ended up neglecting her calling as a medicine cat to become a queen and take a mate, yeah, yeah.”

Sedgestrike could see Fernstream was looking highly flustered, eyeing her son with scorn. 

Ignoring Mudpaw’s lack of enthusiasm, Redleaf pressed on with a level voice. “Then you must understand why your birth may be frowned upon by StarClan.”

“Redleaf!” Fernstream hissed. “I’ll allow you to talk to them about this, but don’t you dare belittle my kits.” 

Clearing his throat, Redleaf nodded briskly. “Apologies…” He turned back to Mudpaw. “The birth of three who are not meant to be will give rise to revolution.” The air felt heavier after the prophecy was spoken. “Does that sound familiar to you?”

Sedgestrike gauged her brother’s reaction, but found him hard to read with his eyes fixed on the ground. Her sister shuddered beside her. 

Mudpaw stole a glance at Sedgestrike. “I’ve heard of it,” he admitted glumly. “Don’t see what difference it makes though...

“That’s why you’re here, Mudpaw,” Fernstream explained gently. Her tongue rasped across Mudpaw’s tufted ear, and he shrugged her off with a pouting face. “We are trying to protect you from this.”

“But why?” Mudpaw hissed. “What’s the point? It’s just some dumb words.” Though he was becoming prickly, Sedgestrike could see the softness in Mudpaw. His eyes were wide with fear, and he kept squirming uncomfortably. 

“These words govern your life, unfortunately,” Redleaf continued gravely. He had his head bowed, as if in prayer. “You must adhere to the possibility that this prophecy will be fulfilled.”

“And what’s so bad about that?” Mudpaw snapped. “What’s there to be frightened of?”

Sedgestrike froze, shocked. She glared at her brother, envious of how ignorant he was. How he could sit there, demanding answers, while she had the torturous curse of finding everything out on her own. “There’s an entity,” she began with a growl in her throat, “that wishes to eliminate StarClan. The prophecy came from them.”

“Who?” Yewbranch squeaked. She sounded afraid of the answer. 

“The Place of Eternal Night,” Sedgestrike answered, a shiver in her words. “It’s a dreadful… awful place for cats that pledge allegiance to the Order of the Destined Paragons.” 

“Your sister has been through a lot these last couple moons,” Fernstream told them, eyes brimming with sympathy. Sedgestrike wished her mother saved her pity, for she could see Mudpaw turn green with envy in response to it.

“What’s this Order?” Yewbranch asked, bewildered. “I’ve never heard of it.

“It’s a secret society embedded in the origin of MarshClan,” Redleaf recounted. “Darkstar, at the time Darkfeather, conspired with his medicine cat to overthrow his sister, Eveningstar.” The heavy tree branches of the Great Cypress groaned in the wind, sorrowful against it. “He was promised power eternal and knowledge unlimited by his medicine cat should he succeed in doing one thing… kill his own sister. He did succeed, as you know and became the third leader of MarshClan. Shortly after, he formed the Order, which comprised of only the best, most elite group of cats that swore fidelity to the Eternal Night. Hence the honor graduate system...”

Again, Mudpaw turned green with envy. His face was contorted into a scowl made just for Sedgestrike; she was not obliged to appreciate it.

Yewbranch was staring at the Great Cypress, shivering. “How could he? His own kin…”

Another groan sounded from the Great Cypress as the wind picked up. Sedgestrike glanced around in confusion. Where were these sudden gusts even coming from? 

“The Place of Eternal Night is an ancient force, probably tracing back to the Clans Marshstar originated from when he called himself Ashbreeze,” Redleaf mused, looking thoughtfully at the cypress roots. “And they are very real.” 

“I’m hardly young enough to enjoy scary bedtime stories, Redleaf,” Mudpaw scoffed.

“They’re real,” Sedgestrike asserted, rising to her paws. “I’ve seen them. They’re vicious. They aren’t like you and I.” 

Mudpaw curled his lip, but relented. 

Fernstream came between them, brows furrowed. “This is serious. Don’t start disagreeing now.” She turned to Mudpaw. “Whether you believe them or not doesn’t matter because Whitestar does.” 

Mudpaw’s ears perked. “She does?”

Sedgestrike nodded grimly and added, “She knows of the prophecy as well, and she celebrates it.” Disgust tricked into her words. “She wants us to fulfill the prophecy, thinks us heroes for it…” 

Yewbranch looked horrified. “You mean… rid of StarClan?” She gulped loudly. “Is—is that even possible?”

“I don’t know…” Sedgestrike confessed. 

Mudpaw’s eyes were wide. “So… what will we do?” 

“We run,” Sedgestrike told him. “We can’t fulfill this prophecy, and now that Whitestar knows what we’re capable of, we’re in danger.” 

“I’ve arranged for you four to travel across the border to the Land of the Fallen. You’ll be safe there,” Redleaf assured them. “You leave tonight.” 

“Wait—wait, slow down,” Mudpaw protested. “Leave MarshClan? Live with the Fallen? Do you have bees in your brain or are you just getting too old to think right?” 

Yewbranch whimpered, “But what about Blackhawk. I couldn’t possibly—I mean, we just—I—“ She shut her eyes, trembling as she choked back sobs. 

“We can’t leave!” Mudpaw asserted with a hiss. “Abandon our only home on the basis of some words some fake dead cats made up? No!” 

Sedgestrike bristled. “If you stay here, you’ll have to bend to Whitestar’s wishes. You have no idea what she’s capable of, or what she’s done… She’s—she’s a murderer, Mudpaw.”

“Rubbish,” Mudpaw spat. His voice was guttural. 

“You can kick and scream all you want,” Fernstream quipped, “but you all are coming with me tonight whether you like it or not. Staying here is a death sentence.” 

“Don’t you see?” Sedgestrike pleaded. “We can’t fulfill this prophecy. We can’t let her win. Could you imagine all the horrible things we’d have to do to kill StarClan?”

Yewbranch shuddered again. “No… I—I couldn’t. I know I wouldn’t be able to do what she asked of me…”

“And she’ll have you killed for it,” Sedgestrike mewed savagely. 

Yewbranch flinched back. 

Meanwhile, Mudpaw went quiet, shutting his eyes. His tail was curling in and out thoughtfully. “You said four,” he muttered quietly. His eyes fell on Fernstream. “What about Shaleheart?”

Fernstream sighed softly. “I know how hard this must be for you three, but I cannot stress to you enough how crucial tonight will be.” Her eyes hardened, glinting like adamant emeralds on her fair face. “Your father wouldn’t understand. We can’t risk this going wrong.” 

“So, what, we just leave him?” Mudpaw snarled. “How could you say that?” 

“Because I love you,” Fernstream said simply. 

“You realize if things go wrong tonight, all four of you could be tried for treason,” Redleaf pointed out vindictively. “If you’re seen trying to leave MarshClan, it can and will get ugly.”

“Which is why we can’t tell Shaleheart. We can’t tell anyone.” Fernstream’s eyes fell on Yewbranch. 

Yewbranch recoiled from her mother’s gaze. “I—I won’t.”

Sedgestrike knew her sister was thinking of Blackhawk. Her mind then went to Blueflower. Her mate. Sedgestrike’s heart sank. It seemed like the powers of the stars and beyond were determined to keep them apart. She knew Blueflower was probably in on their escape; after all, she too worked with the Fallen. But… to say goodbye so soon…

“This isn’t fair!” Mudpaw suddenly exploded, causing nearly all the cats to jump out of their fur. His face was wraught with fury. “How can you just rearrange my whole life in one day like this?” He suddenly looked very small. “I’ve tried… I’ve tried so hard to build a good life for myself. I’ve tried to be a good cat. And here I am… getting all my efforts ripped from me… again.” He gave Sedgestrike a pointed look, and she stiffened defensively. “This isn’t fair…” he said again, though without the fervor from before. His voice dwindled off like a weak breeze. 

“Your life was never yours to be arranged,” Redleaf mewed curtly. “Your path has been laid out by the Eternal Night, waiting to be fulfilled. This is our attempt to divert you from that path, for it will only lead to nothing but darkness and pain…”

“Besides,” Sedgestrike growled. Mudpaw had struck a nerve by giving her such an accusatory stare. “You’re life hasn’t changed in one day. I tried to tell you before what was happening. I told you about the prophecy—you didn’t believe me!”

Mudpaw avoided Sedgestrike’s stare, refusing to speak. 

“Just give this a chance, my son,” Fernstream begged. She came to his side, wrapping her tail around him and pulling him close like she used to do when she comforted him as a kit. They were the same height now, but Mudpaw still tucked his head beneath her chin like he used to. “I’ve always wanted what was best for you. I’m only agreeing to do this because it’s our only option.”

Yewbranch bit back a sob, but it bled through as a whine. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Sedgestrike glanced at the three of them, feeling indignant. She knew it would come to this all along. If only they just listened to her. If only Fernstream told them about the prophecy sooner. Maybe then, she would not feel so jaded. Leaving MarshClan was the final solution. It would pain her more if Blueflower was not among Risen; at least with her associating with them, she would get a chance to see her again. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to feel sympathy for the rest of her family. They chose not to believe and keep secrets; it was their willful ignorance that caused their sorrows.

“Well,” Redleaf began, “now that we lay bare all the ambiguities… Let’s talk business.”

The four cats looked to Redleaf warily as he relayed the plan. “When the sun touches the horizon, you four will rendezvous at the river border. Do not leave as a group. Once the sun begins to set and twilight falls, your escorts will arrive and take you to safety. If there’s a delay, they will only wait for you all until the moon is at its full shine, so don’t be late.”

“Understood,” Sedgestrike replied seriously. The rest of her family nodded. 

“Good.” Redleaf smiled, looking pleasant, much like he used to when Sedgestrike was young. In those days, she actually heard him laugh; it was a jovial chortle contagious enough to get the whole Clan chuckling. She couldn’t remember the last time she heard it. As soon as it appeared, it faded away, replaced by a serious scowl. “It is of the utmost importance you’re not seen with me for the rest of the day. Stay low. Try not to get caught doing any menial tasks—“

“Yeah, right, like I’d get away with that…” Mudpaw grumbled. Fernstream’s quizzical stare prompted him to elaborate. “Whitestar always has something for me to do!” 

“Be that as it may, let’s just keep a low profile for now,” Fernstream finished testily, eyeing each of her kits. 

Redleaf nodded. “Agreed.” He stood, legs shaking slightly; Sedgestrike couldn’t figure out if it was his age or his nerves that caused it. “This ends my assistance to you and your family,” he murmured gravely, glaring at Fernstream. “I cannot attract too much attention during these uncertain times if I’m to protect my position and Risen.”

Sedgestrike eyed Redleaf curiously. His round face, usually bright and jovial, became wan recently. His eyes drooped, wrinkling as they sagged at the corners. He was hunched over as he walked as if he carried a litter of kits on his back. Leaving them in the clearing, the tremble in his legs remained. 

“I need to go and speak to Blackhawk,” Yewbranch whispered weakly. 

“But you can’t—“ Sedgestrike’s protest was cut short.

“I know!” Yewbranch assured her. “I know,” her voice became calmer, losing its strain. “I can’t tell him we’re leaving. I just want to—I don’t know—I just want to spend as much time with him as possible.”

“Yewbranch, dear,” Fernstream mewed comfortingly, moving to her daughter. 

“Just—just let me do this!” Yewbranch cried, running off into the pine forest. Her sobs echoed between the trees, waning with the wind. 

“This is all your fault,” Mudpaw growled mutinously. He stalked passed Sedgestrike and Fernstream, head hung low and tail drooping. Fernstream was struck by his green glare, flinching away. “You did this. None of this would be happening if it wasn’t for you.”

Sedgestrike rose to her mother’s defense in an instant, curling her lip at Mudpaw with a snarl. “Take it back.”

Her brother merely shook his head and loped off into the shadows of the pines. 

Sedgestrike turned to Fernstream, seeing her eyes were glazed over. “He didn’t mean it,” she asserted. “He’s just speaking from hurt feelings.”

Fernstream smiled tiredly. “ I always thought my life was worth living because I had my kits,” she mewed. “The pain and stress and the worry… All of that didn’t matter because I knew you three slept safe with full bellies.” She paused, her head sinking. It hung so loosely and low Sedgestrike thought it would fall. “But I never took into account what it would mean if I failed my kits. If I failed as a mother, as your protector. There’s so much more than just… giving you life…” Her eyes stared into Sedgestrike’s desperately. “I must make your lives worth living, and in turn that’ll fulfill my own. Then,” she paused, nodding, “then I can be content.”

“Fernstream… Mom… you-you don’t have to do all that.” Sedgestrike came close and pressed her nose to her mother’s cheek. “You have done so much for us already. No one thinks you’ve failed them.” Even as she spoke it, she wasn’t sure it was true. She had no idea how her siblings felt right now. “I love you, Mom.”

Fernstream shuddered, sighing shakily. She rested her chin on her head and nuzzled her. “And I love you too, more than anything.”

“Let’s go back to camp,” Sedgestrike decided.


	34. Lifeblood

DAYLIGHT waned mercilessly. Sedgestrike watched the sun pass through the sky with haunting determination. There was no stopping it. Tonight, she would leave MarshClan for good. Her life would start over. She could be a new cat, a normal cat, that could live in ignorance of the cosmos. And yet, there was a pull. Her roots were still woven deeply into her birthplace. Laced with memories and relationships, if she dug those roots up, nothing would remain but dirt. Where would she plant herself next? Was she truly going to belong among the Fallen? 

She ruminated in these thoughts as she walked back to camp with Fernstream by her side. Shutting her eyes as she passed through the palmettos, she delved deeper into her head. She had to go to the Fallen. Maybe, with their help, they could rise and stop Whitestar? But Risen said that the Fallen were giving up on resisting their vindictive leader… Maybe they just needed a little push? Some hope? Could she bring that hope to them? What would her purpose be if the prophecy was left unfilled? 

“What do you think the Fallen are like?” Sedgestrike wondered. 

Golden sunlight gleamed proudly, causing the whole earth to shine. A breeze ruffled through the jagged palm fronds, coaxing a shuffling noise from them. Flitting from pine to pine, a scarlet cardinal twittered above. 

Fernstream watched the bird pass overhead, her eyes half shut. “I like to think they’re like us,” she replied thoughtfully. “They were once like us, only… they’ve been convicted of crimes.”

“But you can’t possibly think they’re all bad?” Sedgestrike reasoned. “I mean, Whitestar would get rid of anyone that doesn’t agree with her.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” Fernstream relented half-heartedly. “But… we need to acknowledge that some cats are there because they committed great atrocities in MarshClan.” 

“Do you know one cat in particular?” Sedgestrike asked skeptically. 

“Well.” Fernstream hesitated. “No, no one really comes to mind.” She sucked her teeth in frustration. “This just won’t do… how could Whitestar really banish so many innocent cats?” 

Sedgestrike shrugged. “Because she’s evil?” 

Fernstream frowned, staring at Sedgestrike with a glint of disappointment in her eyes. “I would’ve hoped you were raised to see the good in all cats.” 

Feeling her pelt prickled irritably, Sedgestrike picked up the pace. “It doesn’t matter,” she grunted dismissively. “There are cats that are just born bad. I know what she’s capable of, and I know what the cats that follow her are willing to do.”

At her grave remark, Fernstream went quiet. 

They left the palmettos, stepping into the familiar murk of the marsh. The dingy shallow water held the sun’s incandescent shimmer, gleaming with slick sheen like slug skin. Sedgestrike’s paws gushed into the cool mud lavishly. She enjoyed the feeling of it soaking into her toes, knowing she would not feel it for long. 

“I was only trying to suggest that we are careful once we leave MarshClan. We don’t know those cats,” Fernstream reasoned. She spoke carefully as if she considered her words heavily before she spoke them. “We don’t truly know why they’re there.”

“I know, I know,” Sedgestrike muttered, not keen on stirring up the subject again. 

Before long, they were pushing through the sawgrass that flanked camp. When Sedgestrike emerged, she was greeted by several cats stirring excitedly through camp. Sedgestrike’s ears perked curiously, wanting to catch the tail-end of the hurried murmurs reverberating around them. A muffled wail sounded from the gnarled roots of the nursery. At the sound, the Clan cats froze, ears on a swivel, only to resume their pacings and chatterings with greater fervency. 

“That sounds like Juniperheart.” Fernstream’s worried mew was nearly drowned out by the dull roar erupting from the chaos around them. Her mother broke from her side to push through the crowd of gathered cats, making her way toward the nursery purposefully. 

Sedgestrike lingered near the entrance to camp, uncertain of entering the depths of the swarming cats. She ended up being jostled into the crowd anyways as the sunhigh patrol returned. Spiderfang led the charge, shoving roughly passed Sedgestrike and through the Clan cats towards the nursery. Trapped in-between Otternose and Snakefang, she was forced to watch as Heronpaw exited the nursery wildly, nearly knocking over Fernstream as she attempted to enter. His icy blue eyes were wide with shock, and he regarded the gathered MarshClan cats as if they were a pack of dogs, breathing heavily and erratically. 

“What’s going on?” Spiderfang demanded as he approached the medicine cat apprentice. Despite his smaller build, the deputy looked double his size as his black fur stood on end. “I heard Juniperheart. Is she in pain?“

The queen’s pained wail confirmed Spiderfang’s question. He made a move to enter the nursery, but Fernstream stopped him. She gazed down on him levelly as the rest of MarshClan held their breath. 

“Out of the way,” Spiderfang snarled. 

Sedgestrike was not used to seeing the usually eerily cheery deputy look so fierce. She was reminded of his higher ranking among the Clan, the Order, and the Eternal Night, and it all made sense to her. He had every right to claw Fernstream’s face off if she refused his order; Sedgestrike’s stomach clenched. 

“I’m sorry,” Fernstream murmured calmly, “but it’s probably not best for you to crowd the nursery. Your mate.” She smiled reassuringly. “She’s giving birth.” 

Spiderfang craned his head to Heronpaw. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Is this true?” 

Heronpaw looked aghast to be asked such a question. He bobbed his head in what Sedgestrike assumed was supposed to be a nod. “Y-yes, it’s true,” he blubbered. 

“Well, what are you doing about it?” Spiderfang snapped. “She sounds like she’s dying!” 

Heronpaw hesitated, glancing down at his paws, at Fernstream, and then to Spiderfang. “I… I was going to get Redleaf.” 

“Redleaf isn’t here,” Fernstream told Heronpaw gently. “He’s still out gathering herbs.” 

Heronpaw blinked rapidly, as if the more he blinked, the faster Redleaf would return, the less Juniperheart would cry, and the sooner the prying eyes of all of MarshClan would shut. Sedgestrike felt confusion rise in her, and it was echoed by the curious mutters of her Clanmates. Did Heronpaw not know what to do? 

“I—uh—I—” Heronpaw struggled to find words. 

“Useless,” Spiderfang spat. “Someone go fetch Redleaf!” 

“N-no!” Fernstream cried out. 

Sedgestrike felt her entire body freeze as Spiderfang turned on her. If anyone went to find Redleaf… their whole plan would fail. Fernstream met the deputy’s enraged glare unflinchingly. 

“She has no time. The kits are coming now,” Fernstream mewed urgently. “I can help.” 

Spiderfang sneered, “You? A mere warrior? You’ll deliver my kits?”

“You forget, I was once under the tutelage of Redleaf. I know what to do,” Fernstream assured him. 

“Very well,” Spiderfang grumbled. Sedgestrike could see his ferocity disapparate like it was never there. She shuddered. A smile flickered on the smaller cat’s lips, his amber eyes glinting with warning. “I entreat you to do what you must. My family’s fate is in your paws,” he yielded, though a warning hung on his tongue menacingly. 

Sedgestrike realized if her mother failed, she would be the one to blame. She could… go to trial. It became hard for her to swallow as she watched Fernstream bow to their deputy. Her mother briskly went to Heronpaw, whom remained frozen during the exchange and only stirred to life by her nudge against his shoulder.

“I need you to gather an abundance of feverfew, for her pain, and gather the leaves and fruit of the raspberry bush which will help speed her kitting and stop her hemorrhaging, and then meet me in the nursery.”

Heronpaw, having returned to reality, fixed Fernstream with an icy glare. For a heartbeat, Sedgestrike thought he would refuse, but Spiderfang’s ominous presence must’ve convinced him otherwise, for he stole a baleful glance at the deputy before he nodded to Fernstream. Once Heronpaw followed her command, Fernstream promptly returned to the nursery. From its shadowy depths, Sedgestrike thought she could smell blood.

Spiderfang’s glare raked over the gathered Clan cats, whom all stood in shocked silence. “Carry on about your day,” he encouraged testily. “If you have nothing better to do than dawdle, I’ll be sure to find some work for you.” 

The deputy’s promise did well to break up the crowd. As the cluster of cats thinned, one cat remained standing. Sedgestrike met Blueflower’s eyes in a heartbeat, and her paws felt knocked out from beneath her. She could see in her blue eyes that they were thinking the same thing: they were out of time. Uncaring of the curious glances she might get, she approached Blueflower determinedly.

“You know what’s happening,” Sedgestrike whispered, gazing at her intently. 

“Yes.”

“You know it’s tonight,” Sedgestrike continued.

“Yes.” Blueflower’s voice broke as she spoke. 

“Then… then won’t you walk with me?” Sedgestrike asked. 

Blueflower glanced around them nervously, but most of the cats seemed to be going about their business, eager to look busy for Spiderfang. She gazed up at Sedgestrike, nodding slowly. “I will.”

Wordlessly, the two she-cats made their way toward Mother Lake, slipping through the reeds and bulrush with haste. By the time they reached the sandy shore, the sun burned from gold to orange, sinking into the vast lake water to scorch its surface with light. Sedgestrike sat before Mother Lake, breathing in a soft breeze as Blueflower sat beside her. Their fur touched, and Sedgestrike shivered with a loud exhale. 

“I’m going to miss you,” Blueflower mewed solemnly. Her blue eyes held the sun’s fire, and it looked like she held the entire lake’s surface them. She leaned into Sedgestrike, eyes half-shut.

“Won’t we still see each other?” Sedgestrike asked hopefully, voice cracking. “With Risen, you’ll be contacting us often anyways, right?”

“It’s not that simple! Our meetings with the Fallen are brief and infrequent. With Whitestar hunting for us, we can’t be too careful,” Blueflower mewed flusteredly. “It’ll be different...” 

Sedgestrike moved to stare down at Blueflower. She could feel her hopes dashed like dust in the wind when she saw her face, which was perturbed with brooding melancholy. “Then don’t do it with Risen. Just come for me. Come to see me.” 

“I told you,” Blueflower affirmed sternly. “We are being hunted now. And you? You… they would kill you on the spot for your betrayal.” Her firmness was drained by fear and her face fell. “Your safety is all I care about.”

“And what about yours?” Sedgestrike countered, anger flaring. “You think your safety doesn’t matter? Risen needs you! I—I need you.” Her rage faltered, ending on a hopeless note. “I’m supposed to just… runaway. And what? Pretend like everything’s fine? Like you couldn’t be dragged away at any moment if your identity was found?”

Blueflower shook her head. “This. Whatever this is. It’s bigger than you and I,” she argued. “You have a prophecy, Sedgestrike. Don’t you realize how important that is? I haven’t known of a prophecy coming to MarshClan in moons.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get your hopes up… it’s not from StarClan,” Sedgestrike retorted. “I have no intentions of fulfilling it.”

“But don’t you see?” Blueflower snapped, exasperated. “You are everything to Whitestar, you and your siblings, she would do anything to keep you three and ensure you do the Eternal Night’s bidding.” She lowered her voice, but her glower remained severe. Though they were far from earshot in camp, Sedgestrike knew they couldn’t be too careful. Blueflower continued, reeling, “If we were to get caught, all the sacrifices you, your family, all of us made would be for nothing. We would jeopardize everything!” 

Sedgestrike lowered her gaze, turning to watch the lake ripple with sunshine. Sluggish waves lapped sloppily at her white toes as they rolled to and fro from the shore. Blueflower was right. They couldn’t see one another, not while Whitestar was in power at least. 

“Sedgestrike,” Blueflower’s voice was soft, pleading. “I love you, more than anything. And that’s why—“

“I know!” she snapped. She sighed, shaking her head, repeating more gently, “I know.”

Blueflower pressed close to her again and she drank in her sweet scent. “It won’t be like this forever,” she whispered, pushing her face into Sedgestrike’s shoulder. 

“It won’t,” she agreed rigidly. Her voice held the storm of a fierce promise. “I’ll make sure of that.” 

“Like the waves always come back to the shore, I will always come back to you,” Blueflower promised, and the continuous sound of the flow and ebb of the waves echoed her words.

There was a rustling from the reeds behind them. Sedgestrike stiffened, unsheathing her claws as she heard Blueflower inhale sharply. They both turned around to see Pebblepaw pushing through to meet them; Sedgestrike relaxed at once when she saw the friendly glow of his blue eyes. His fumbling greeting was accentuated by the clumsy placement of his paws; he nearly fell in his haste to speak to them.

“Th-the kits!” he stammered excitedly. “They’re born!” 

Sedgestrike and Blueflower exchanged glances. In the heat of their discussion, Sedgestrike had forgotten about the new life coming to MarshClan, and that her mother was helping it be so. Blueflower also seemed to have forgotten, for she blinked in confusion before nodding briskly. 

“Oh! Splendid,” she gushed. 

“How many?” Sedgestrike asked, rising as Pebblepaw turned back for the reeds. 

“Uh, two, I think?” he guessed nervously. Waving his dappled tail, he led the she-cats back to camp. “We should hurry. Spiderfang wants everyone present for their reveal.”

“Of course,” Blueflower purred. 

As they entered the clearing, it seemed all of MarshClan had gathered in the center. Instead of assembling before the Fallen Cypress, they were before the nursery roots in rushed clusters. The audience was full of eager mutterings and joyful laughs. Egretsong in particular was beaming, mewing to Gingerstep while staring blindly ahead. Her once golden eyes were reduced to clouded orbs framed by gashes. 

“Tell me what they look like.” Sedgestrike heard Egretsong murmur. Her heart sank. Had she not been caught up in the silent war between the Risen and the Order, she would still have her sight. 

“I will. We’ve got a good view,” Gingerstep assured her sister. Her smile held no joy. 

Sedgestrike sat behind them, Blueflower and Pebblepaw on either side of her. She felt guilt rise up in her when she found herself wishing Pebblepaw had not found them by Mother Lake. Though reveals were a time of celebration and of great importance, she’d already sat through Lilypaw’s and Pebblepaw’s, Foxpaw’s, as well as Hawthornkit’s and Magnoliakit’s. She glanced at the sun nervously, watching it sink toward the crown of the pine trees, setting the needles ablaze with a fiery glow. 

She found herself searching for her siblings. It did not take long to find Yewbranch, for she sat closely beside Blackhawk towards the front of the crowd. She could see the distress in her sister’s green eyes while Blackhawk remained frustratingly unreadable. His lips were drawn in a tight frown that only made the scar on his jaw look fiercer.

But then… where was Mudpaw? Sedgestrike desperately looked for her brother in the crowd, but failed to see him. Her heart sunk to her, turning to mush as acid bubbled inside her. No… no… he must be here. He has to leave! When she spotted him sitting beside Foxpaw, she relished a drink of relief, fears quenched, but it froze like ice in her throat when she saw the mud on his pelt and the fresh wounds engraved on his shoulders. It seemed Whitestar took him to spar. The gouges gleamed an angry red against his mottled brown fur. 

Despite his injuries, Mudpaw was laughing. Beside him, Foxpaw, his training partner, was gesturing goofily towards Lilypaw and making animated moony eyes. Seeing Mudpaw laugh as he did pricked a vein in her heart; she felt it bleed as she recalled the days when she would be the one making him laugh and smile so. Perhaps those days would come again once they were far from MarshClan, she hoped. They needed to escape first, and her eyes found the one cat that would stop her: Whitestar.

Whitestar was sitting quietly upon the Fallen Cypress, watching her Clan like a raven would a fresh grave. Summoned by her stare, Whitestar met Sedgestrike’s gaze and turned her blood to ice. Whitestar held no joy nor rage nor any emotion in her eyes, but somehow, Sedgestrike could see a storm play in their amber depths. The small smile cracked the ice in her features, and Sedgestrike returned it, feeling like her fur was crawling off her skin. 

“It’s not everyday MarshClan has new kits,” Larkwing rasped from behind Sedgestrike. His words came as a gracious distraction and she turned to indulge it. She saw adoration adorning his graying face.

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll be beautiful.” Owleyes was gushing beside him, her tail curled with excitement. 

“It’s a good thing Fernstream was here to attend to the kitting,” Cypressfang pointed out coldly. His bitter, deep voice urged Sedgestrike to turn back around and look away. “That Heronpaw must have a bird brain. How long has he been under Redleaf’s tutelage?” Sedgestrike’s grandfather made a scoffing noise. 

“Now, now, don’t be so harsh,” Owleyes chided. Sedgestrike glanced back to see the elder’s wide amber eyes glinting. “He’s always had Redleaf around for kittings, and Juniperheart is young; she was bound not to handle the pain well.”

“Well, Redleaf’s not getting any younger.” Sedgestrike could hear the usual disapproving scowl Cypressfang wore in his voice. “He better straighten up if he’s going to take over.”

“Hush now!” Owleyes hissed. “It’s starting.”

Sedgestrike could see that the elder was right. Emerging from the nursery was a very tired-looking Fernstream. Her mother met her gaze, and Sedgestrike thought she saw the smallest nod. Heronpaw shuffled out behind her. His icy blue eyes were still as wide as an owl’s, and they evaded staring at any cat in particular. The apprentice hesitated when he saw that Fernstream did not remain in the half-circle clearing that the gathered crowd created before the nursery. Her mother gave Heronpaw an encouraging smile before getting lost in the mass of cats. 

Heronpaw froze as he was forced to turn to the whole of MarshClan. Above, Whitestar watched him like a hawk, her lashing tail betraying her impatience. Probably feeling his leader’s disapproving stare, Heronpaw shuddered before he cleared his throat loudly. “I, Heronpaw, medicine cat apprentice of MarshClan, present the reveal of two new additions to our Clan.” He licked his lips, shuffling his paws constantly as if he was standing on hot ash. “May StarClan light their path.”

Amber eyes were suspended in the shadows of the nursery, only taking form when Spiderfang stepped out into the open. In his jaws, he held a small, squirming, wailing lump of tortoiseshell fur. He was followed by Shellshine, the all-mother, and in her jaws she held a squeaky black kit with a white belly, chest, and paws. As she walked, her low-hanging belly swung loosely. Her calico fur was drained of the sheen that garnered her namesake, and yet, Shellshine was glowing as she presented the kit to the Clan. Sedgestrike did not recall the last time she saw her so happy. Perhaps it was when Hawthornkit and Magnoliakit were born? 

As the all-mother, Shellshine cared for every kit born into MarshClan. Her life and passion was caring for young. Sedgestrike silently admired the she-cat for adhering to her calling. She could never imagine herself being restricted to the nursery with a bunch of wailing kits for the rest of her life. Why could her destiny not be so easy? Her admiration slowly burned down into envy.

Juniperheart was last to leave the nursery. Her diluted tortoiseshell fur was ragged and still smelled of her kitting. However, she had a renewed glint to her yellow eyes and a dream in her smile. “MarshClan,” she greeted, sighing. Her voice was reduced to a rasp after her yowling. 

Sedgestrike leaned forward, finding it hard to hear the soft spoken queen, but she found Mothfur in her way. The warrior pushed against her, passing, but as he did so he whispered in her ear, “The sun is melting. Fernstream just left. Now it’s your turn.”

He was gone before she could ask him to elaborate. She whirled around on her heels to find him, but he was lost in the crowd. Bodies pressed forward against her as her Clanmates hurried closer to hear the names and see the kits. 

The tortoiseshell kit was screaming louder now as the Clan eagerly pushed forward. Juniperheart’s soft voice called his name, “My firstborn daughter, small but strong, will be named Flickerkit!”

Cheers followed her announcement. They rung in Sedgestrike’s ears as she pushed her way through the crowd, spitting and cursing as she did so. Fernstream already left for the border. She must’ve gone after helping with Juniperheart’s kitting, she realized. Gazing at the sky, Sedgestrike’s heart sunk when she realized Mothfur was right. The sun was melting. It bled across the sky, smearing it a hue scarlet as deep as lifeblood. The horizon beckoned the sun closer, eager to taste its sultry heat. By the time the sun was devoured, she needed to be gone. 

Turning to Blueflower, she watched her blue eyes glisten as she pretended to continue watching the reveal. Sedgestrike smiled sadly, knowing Blueflower had an idea as to why Mothfur came to her so suddenly. She leaned into her, her lips caressing her ear as she murmured softly, “I love you. This isn’t goodbye.”

Blueflower tilted her head towards Sedgestrike, refusing to look at her. In her eyes, she could see pain swimming luxuriously. “See you later,” she whispered back, voice raw with sadness. “I love you more than life itself.”

Tearing herself away from Blueflower, she felt her heart rip, intent on staying behind with her mate. Despite the fresh wound in her chest, Sedgestrike pushed through the crowd. If she stayed too much longer, she knew she could not bring herself to leave. Her unbecoming exit garnered frustrated hisses and surprised grunts from the MarshClan cats she crashed into them. 

“Watch it!” Fogspots scorned. 

Sedgestrike kept pushing. 

“Look out!” snapped Claytooth.

Ignoring the muttered curses and protests, Sedgestrike was freed from the crowd just as Juniperheart named the squeaky black and white kit. “My second born son, so small and lively, will be named Flykit!” 

Sedgestrike ran into the sawgrass as a chorus of cheers erupted from the clearing. The holler of celebration startled a flock of cranes in the reeds, and they called their farewell in mournful coos as the soared over Sedgestrike. Mud lapped at her legs as she splashed through the marsh, it’s slick tongues wrapping around her paws as sucking her deeper as her haste betrayed her and made her sloppy. 

Yewbranch would come next… and then Mudpaw. They would be safe. 

The smoldering sunlight bled through the pine trees, staining their trunks and needles with blood as the sun was viciously devoured. Mud was caked on Sedgestrike’s thick fur, only to be dusted by the sands cushioning the palmettos she sprinted through as she left the marsh. Faster, faster, faster. She thought she could hear MarshClan still cheering. She thought she heard the cheering descend into screams. The screaming grew louder and louder until Sedgestrike feared her ears would burst from her skull. It wasn’t until she slowed to a stop in the darkening pine forest that she realized the screams were not coming from MarshClan, but the pounding blood within the veins of her ears. Panting, she shuddered when the roar of her hammering heart faded, replaced with the rumble of distant thunder. 

Looking to the sky, she saw a thin line of storm clouds coming from behind. Lightning flashed with their gray bellies, promising heavy rains. She was urged onward by another faroff boom of thunder. The storm told her to keep going, or else face its wrath. A cool breeze rustled through the pines, carry the leaves of hardwoods with them, broad and green. Dancing a deadly waltz, the leaves descended to her paws, licking at her toes as she walked by. The river was close. The oak and maple leaves were being carried into MarshClan from the Land of the Fallen, for no true hardwoods grew in the swamp in abundance. 

Slipping through cypress knees, she could hear the steady hiss of rushing water. Mist clouded the air, turned orange by the burning sunset. Shadows stretched, waking to soon consume the territory with their darkness, and on either side they were framed by blood red sunlight. She could taste the river water now. She could taste freedom. 

She could taste blood. 

Sedgestrike stiffened, keeping to the ferns That skirted the pine trees as the reek of blood grew stronger. Her veins flooded with fire, swelling her muscles in preparation to fight. Something was wrong. Her mind was too focused on the blood to contemplate where it was coming from or why. She only knew it was there. Her golden eyes flashed as she gingerly pushed through the ferns and tangled ivy, coming upon a hulking gray figure breathing raggedly over a body. 

The gray figure was maimed by a long, ugly scar across his flank, a permanent fleshy stripe to contrast the other stripes on his fur. His breathing was labored and excited, disturbing the motes of mist around them so they swirled against his heaving shoulders. 

“Longscar.” Sedgestrike called his name, nearly unable to speak for the stench of blood strangled her tongue with its metallic taste. Her voice was as strong as stone and as deep as thunder. The fear she felt was surpassed by her suspicion. He should not be here. 

The warrior turned on her, his amber eyes twinkling in the dimming sunlight. “Sedgestrike,” he rasped, eyes widening eagerly. His lips were slicked with blood, and it trickled onto his red-stained chest as if he indulged in a generous batch of juicy cherries. “You came.”

Sedgestrike stopped approaching then. Her eyes darted to the body he stood over, but did not linger long enough to identify it. She feared allowing her eyes to leave him for too long. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice staying strong. 

“I could ask you the same thing. I heard two new kits were born in MarshClan.” Longscar’s cordial voice was nearly drowned by the sound of the rushing river. “Let’s hope their hearts remain pure. We can’t afford more traitors in MarshClan.”

Despite the humidity expanding around them, Sedgestrike felt a chill. “What have you done?” 

“Does it matter?” His tail lashed. “I did it for the good of MarshClan. In honor of our leader. As an honor graduate,” he mewed challengingly, his amber eyes fixed on her pointedly, “you should understand.”

“Dammit, Longscar.” Sedgestrike stepped closer to him, fur bristling. “Who is that you’re standing over?” She narrowed her eyes, trying to decipher the limp silhouette amongst the thickening river mist. The scent of blood was too strong, she failed to recognize the scent of the cat. She did see, however, that it lay unmoving. 

“You should know. You were going to betray the Clan together, weren’t you?” Longscar hissed. His fangs glinted red like sharpened rubies. “I always knew you couldn’t be trusted. Now, I have proof… Now, I can redeem myself for failing as a mentor, for failing as a warrior. No cat will ever doubt me again.”

“Dammit all!” Sedgestrike snapped, lunging for Longscar. He quickly jumped aside, growling, and Sedgestrike found herself staring over a beautiful she-cat with tawny fur. Blossoms of blood bloomed at her white throat like a necklace of flowers, and her once bright green eyes were clouded and unseeing. 

“Mother…”


	35. Over the Edge

CROWS gathered overhead, clicking their beaks eagerly atop the narrow pine branches. They cawed and danced, sending a steady shower of needles down onto Sedgestrike as she stood frozen over the corpse of her mother. Her golden eyes were glazed over as she drew her nose across her stiffened face, forever petrified in rage. Sedgestrike knew Fernstream fought to the end. In her claws, she saw the gray fur of her attacker, whom remained standing behind Sedgestrike watching her reaction with an eager expression and lashing tail. 

“Abandoning MarshClan, your place of duty and devotion, is treason, you see,” Longscar explained calmly. “And I have reason to believe she did not act alone.” Sedgestrike could feel the warrior coming closer. “So I wonder, what brings you to the border, Sedgestrike?” 

Tongueless at the sight of her mother’s mangled body, Sedgestrike could only stare. The words Longscar uttered merely touched her ears. Whatever he said went unheard. 

“This is your chance,” he hissed, dangling the carrot before her as if she were a hapless bunny. “You can finally prove to me you’re the chosen one they think you are. Tell me the truth, unmask the others that conspired in this foolhardy plan… and I promise, I’ll serve you until the end of my life. We will all serve you. No one will doubt that you are what we’ve been waiting for.”

Longscar’s sultry promise fell on deaf ears, Sedgestrike was far away, a kit again, playing in camp alongside her siblings while Fernstream watched them, smiling. She was becoming an apprentice, nervous but excited to embark on her training, and in the audience of MarshClan cats, Fernstream was there, smiling. She caught her first fish, and Fernstream was there, smiling. She climbed her first tree, and Fernstream was there, smiling. She became a warrior then, and Fernstream was there to smile. She confessed her love for Blueflower, and Fernstream was there, smiling.

Her mother would smile no more. Not ever again. 

Sedgestrike felt her insides liquify. Her body was trembling. Longscar was talking again, but all she could hear was an incessant ringing in her ears. 

Her mother was gone. 

Her mother was murdered. 

She turned then, abruptly and quietly, giving Longscar a start. The warrior met her glare, gaze level, and stood his ground. Sedgestrike could see the claw marks Fernstream gave him, and how they grew more shallow and ragged along his shoulders. She remembered how Vinestripe scratched pathetically at Claytooth before he died, and she knew Fernstream did the same. The deep scarlet grin on her mother’s throat was still fresh, raining rubies from her wasting body. It was a purposeful laceration. There was intent. Longscar came to kill her all along. 

Sedgestrike unsheathed her claws. “You murdered her,” she snarled. There was no time to mourn, not while her mother’s killer was still standing. Rage grew into something ugly inside of her, rearing its head and roaring flame into every inch of her body. “You didn’t even bring her to trial, you didn’t even let her defend herself—“

“I was performing my duty,” Longscar said simply. His claws unsheathed as well, shining red. “As you should’ve done. Had she followed the laws of our Clan, she would still be alive. You’ll come to realize, young Sedgestrike, there’s no mercy in justice.” 

“She didn’t deserve to die.”

Longscar shook his head. “All traitors deserve to die.”

An unearthly screech sounded from Sedgestrike’s throat then. She launched herself at Longscar. His amber eyes widened in shock, and he careened his long body out of the way with a hiss, sliding into the reeds as the damp earth of the river shore betrayed his footing. Sedgestrike watched him slip hungrily. He would pay for this, she decided. Rage blazed inside her, begging for kindling. Wasting not even a heartbeat, she lunged for him and slashed at his shoulder as he awkwardly rose from his blunder. She caught his skin and tore, sending his hot blood splattering against her face. She winced at the stench of it, but relished the sound of his pained caterwaul.

“So you dare strike a member of the Order?” Longscar bellowed. A chuckle erupted from his throat, growing deeper as he stepped closer to her. His eyes glazed over, hiding his pupils in a film of delight.

“I knew it!” he cheered, blood and saliva bubbling at the corners of his lips. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted! I told them—I told them, you see. But no—no they wouldn’t listen.” Longscar shook his head as if flies came to buzz at his ears, doubting him. “But they were wrong! I have proof!” He brought his paw to the bleeding wound on his shoulder and stared at it. “You aren’t one of us,” he decided. His glare fixed onto Sedgestrike, and his laughter died. His breathing slowed, and Sedgestrike could hear the screaming of blood pumping in her ears again. “You were never one of us!” he shrieked. With a swipe of his claws, he clipped her jaw. 

Taken aback by the blow, Sedgestrike grunted in pain. “You’re right,” she hissed, “I was never one of you.” 

The two warriors were trapped in a circle now, each sizing the other up. Sedgestrike observed her opponent’s long legs and body. He would have better reach, a wider blow, and faster movements. He was also more experienced. Yet, his movements were labored, and something about him seemed… off. The Longscar she knew was composed and calculating… whatever beast she was regarding now had gone wild with a taste for blood. Perhaps she had a chance. If she could just… weaken him, disable him from fighting and force his surrender, maybe then the rest of her family could escape. She refused to fail and let her siblings meet the same fate as Fernstream.

“You killed her,” she repeated. Her eyes were wild with fury, burning like the slowly setting sun. “You’ll pay for this.”

“I brought her to justice,” Longscar reasoned. His lips were peeled back to the gums, which were inflamed from the pressures of biting.

Sedgestrike wondered how deeply he bit Fernstream before she died. She wondered if she begged for her life. Sedgestrike’s steps faltered. The sickening thoughts of her mother’s final moments made her stomach want to burst from her belly. She wanted to rid of it all, her heart, her lungs, her innards. She wanted to spew it all out so she could feel nothing. Not the rage. Not the regret. Not the bone-crushing, mind-numbing sadness that crippled her now. 

_Focus,_ she urged herself. _This isn’t about Fernstream now. This is about Yewbranch and Mudpaw. You need to protect them. It’s what she would’ve wanted._

She did not realize their dance ended until Longscar was on top of her. She screamed as his fangs tore into the side of her neck. Her vision blurred as the pain consumed her senses. She could only see the haze of mist and the red shine of the sunset, and it mutated into a fiery fog she soon got lost in.   
_  
No._

 _I can’t die here.  
_  
Sedgestrike’s hind legs collided Longscar’s belly, digging into the soft flesh there. His wail was cut short, for once his jaws released their grip, her claws raked across his snout. Blood rained down onto her muddy fur. As Longscar recoiled from her, Sedgestrike rose. She shook out her long mane, sending her own blood spattering from her wound into the sodden grass and earth. The bite stung, but the heat of battle was in her now, and she could not stop.

Blood steadily trickled from the wounds on Longscar’s belly. “Give up,” he spat. “It’s all over. Once Whitestar learns what you’ve done, you’ll be good as dead. Let me spare you the shame of a trial.”

“Never,” Sedgestrike hissed. 

Running for him, Longscar quickly dodged her attack, spinning around to rake his claws down her back. Fur and flesh tore with his claws, and she screeched in pain. She spun, rearing up on her hind legs as she turned on him. Before he could slither away, she crashed her large paws on his side, crushing him into the ground with a thud. He writhed beneath her like a snake being strangled, cursing and spitting. 

Sedgestrike watched his struggle in a daze. Her golden eyes were wide, unable to focus as he wailed in her grasp.

He killed her. He killed her. He killed her. 

Suddenly, the red from the sun seemed to burn brighter. It framed her vision, bleeding into her. She dug her claws deeper into Longscar. He snarled as blood pooled around her claws. 

“I’ll kill you!” Longscar swore. He pulled himself free of her grip, thrusting himself onto her. 

Intertwined with him, she buried her claws into his body as they rolled on the ground, screeching. Fur and blood went airborne and fell around in a macabre shower. It wasn’t long until each of the cats bore matted pelts stained red. Longscar twisted against her, his long body coiling like a snake around her until he had her pinned. Her chin was forced into the ground as he stood on top of her back, keeping her legs braced uncomfortably under his weight. 

When her vision cleared, she was staring at her mother’s dead face. Fernstream’s eyes were distant. Her face was frozen in an expression of rage, which had gone slack and lopsided. Blood pooled at her neck, still warm, staining her white and tawny fur with death. 

“Is this what you want?” Longscar demanded breathlessly. He gave a shaky chuckle. “Your mother was a fool. No one escapes MarshClan.” He forced his paws harder onto Sedgestrike, and she felt her limbs bend at awkward angles. Her tendons stretched tight, ready to snap. 

“You’re going to end up like her, you know that, right?” Longscar promised, bringing his bloody maw to her face as he leaned down from behind. Together, they were watching Fernstream’s corpse. His nose caressed her as he spoke. “I knew I would win. There was always a… weakness in you,” he whispered. Another shaky chuckle sounded, and his breath was hot against her cheek. “I wonder what your final words will be?”

Sedgestrike stirred, a whimper escaping her. She couldn’t let fear take her over now. But it was there, raw and unshakable, making a home out of her heart, eagerly waiting for it to stop beating. 

Her mother’s face stared blankly back at her. 

“Mother,” she whined. She tried to reach her paw out to touch her face, but Longscar only stood harder on her. She cried out in pain, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Don’t worry,” Longscar assured her. She felt his long claws wrap around her throat. “You’ll join her soon enough.” 

Sedgestrike kept her eyes shut, praying. If this was the end, she at least hoped it would be the cats of StarClan to greet her. 

Longscar sighed softly. “It’s a shame. It seems I won’t be able to fulfill your mother’s dying wish.”

Sdesgtrike froze, opening her eyes and staring at Fernstream. 

“Please, just don’t hurt my kits,” Longscar repeated, his voice mockingly desperate. His claws trembled against her throat as he laughed. 

Sedgestrike could see her then. Fernstream laying on the ground, trembling and struggling as Longscar gazed down on her, pitiless. He could see how his claws traced a permanent smile on her neck as she sputtered out her last words: “Please, just don’t hurt my kits.”

“No!” Sedgestrike snarled. 

She knocked her head back, ramming it into Longscar’s jaw with a painful smack. Blood sprinkled onto her forehead as the impact forced him to bite his tongue. While he was stunned, she rolled away, knocking him off his feet. He scrabbled to his paws just as she collided with him, forcing him back onto the ground. 

“No!” She struck her claws down, blindly slicing at his body as she pinned him. 

“No!” She struck again, her claws tearing as they tore deeper into his flesh. 

Longscar was spitting, coughing, as her claws gored at his chest and belly. His kicks and scratches did little to move her, for her weight and her fury were too heavy. 

“No! No! No!” Sedgestrike struck him so hard and so numerously, her paws grew numb. She felt the burn of his retaliation coming in shallow scratches, but it did not overwhelm her enough to stop her. 

“I’ve already won,” he wheezed, spitting up blood. “You—you can’t ever change that.”

“Shut up!” Sedgestrike cried. “Shut up!” Her voice wavered into a sob, and she trembled, feeling the fear rise to cool her rage, but the cool turned to steam as Longscar began to laugh again. His laugh was deep and mirthful, and Sedgestrike hated him for it. 

Longscar’s smile was bleeding now, and his throaty laughs were chopped up by coughs of blood. “You failed.” His laughs sounded much like the crows above, cawing eagerly for the feast of corpses to come. “You’re no chosen one. You’re nothing. You’re—“

The crows fled, startled by the strangled yowl that came from Longscar. He was frozen mid-scream and began to gulp for air. Blood poured from the corners of his mouth in rivulets. His neck was pierced, his throat ripped. His claws clung to Sedgestrike’s left eye as she buried her teeth deeper inside him, and they curled into her face in turn. All she could think about as she stared down at his horrified face was the pleasure of proving him wrong. He didn’t win. Murderers didn’t deserve to win.

Longscar tore his claws deeper into her eye and she jerked her head away, startled by the pain. A fleshy tear sounded. Blood dripped from her lips, and bits of Longscar’s jugular fell to the blood-soaked at earth. 

Somewhere in the distance, thunder boomed.

She found relief in the silence that followed. The rushing river behind her, the crows now calling farewell from leagues away. There was peace. And then she saw Longscar’s body. 

What remained of his neck was savaged beyond recognition. Flayed by fangs, strips of bloodied flesh flowered from his throat, dripping onto the blooming pool of blood enveloping him. His long body was still twitching. Sedgestrike took a step back, feeling her rage peter out, only to be replaced with a fresh wind of regret.   
_  
What have I done?  
_  
Longscar’s eyes rolled as lifeblood rushed viciously from his mortal wound. Branches of angry veins swarmed at the exposed whites of his eyes, and the once gleaming amber depths turned cloudy. Sedgestrike’s breathing shuddered inside of her. Her mouth tasted of blood, hot and sticky, and she began to vomit. The stench of Longscar’s dying body and the rancid taste of his flesh on her tongue overcame her. She expelled her disgust with such fervor, she began to sob, collapsing in her blood and fluids as the ache of the battle, the weight of her mother’s death, and the truth of her killing all fell on her at once. 

Thunder grew louder as she lay there. The sunset was waning, allowing the purplish glow of twilight to take heed and cushion the growing shadows. She did not know how long she lay there, but she found herself crawling for Fernstream. She curled up against her cold body, searching for the last scraps of warmth, only to find nothing but the reek of death and an empty stare. She watched her mother as the river continued to roll by behind them, sending mist into the darkening sky. 

Sedgestrike’s golden eye rolled, the other too swollen to function, as a rustle sounded. Her ears perked, and she rose, shakily, to her paws. Would it be Yewbranch? Mudpaw? Her heart begged for relief. They needed to leave. But… She glanced nervously at Longscar, only to squeeze her eye shut when nausea returned. She killed him. He was dead. The taste of his blood was still fresh in her mouth. 

What would they think of her?

Thunder roared in the distance, chasing away the blood red horizon.


	36. Snuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Bury all your secrets in my skin  
>  Come away with innocence and leave me with my sins  
> The air around me still feels like a cage  
> And love is just a camouflage for what resembles rage again_  
> \-- Slipknot, _Snuff_

“THIS way! I smell blood!” 

A voice carried through the darkening brush, echoing with urgency. Sedgestrike peered through the shadows of the forest, her breath coming ragged from her throat. Her flayed eye saw only red, while the other saw growing shadows and rustling bracken. 

“Hurry, this way!” Another voice prompted. 

The rustling grew louder, more frantic, and Sedgestrike stumbled as she backed away, tripping back onto her mother’s body. She whimpered at the stiffness of it, the coldness she felt to the touch. Getting back to her paws, she glanced fervently in search of an escape, but found only a thickening haze and growing shadows. 

By the time the evening patrol arrived, Sedgestrike was too late. 

“My stars.” When Kiteclaw emerged from the ferns, Sedgestrike felt her heart plummet. The gray and white tabby regarded the scene with wide eyes and a slack jaw. “What—what happened?!”

Behind her, Grayjaw and Foxpaw followed. Shoulders forcing the bushes apart, Grayjaw beheld the scene, gaping, his mangled jaw exaggerating his expression. Foxpaw hopped behind him, tail sticking straight up. Grayjaw quickly knocked his apprentice backwards before he saw the whole of the carnage. The warrior turned to Kiteclaw and looked to Sedgestrike. “The Fallen… they have to be the culprits.”

Sedgestrike paused, feeling her heart quicken and take flight in her chest, flapping desperately in her rib cage. No… This was not the Fallen. It was me. She wanted to speak the words, but her mouth was too full of the taste of blood. 

Foxpaw was jumping restlessly behind Grayjaw. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “Let me see!”

“Go, request Whitestar at once, ask that she bring her best warriors,” Grayjaw commanded gruffly. Sedgestrike saw the flash of his large paw whip at the apprentice, connecting with a thud, and Foxpaw left with a squeak. 

Kiteclaw was staring at Sedgestrike as if she was a viper. “Explain this…” Her command fell flat as she drank in the scene further, intoxicating her with fear. The vigor in her expression faltered as she was forced to taste the gore. 

“I…” Sedgestrike croaked but her voice failed her. 

Grayjaw eagerly filled the silence. “Where have they gone?” he bellowed. “I trust you chased them off well, but they need to pay for this. Two MarshClan lives stolen by the Fallen! This is outrageous—“

“Sedgestrike,” Kiteclaw began, eyeing her in horror. “This… this is madness.”

In Kiteclaw’s wide amber eyes, Sedgestrike could see the reflection of herself. Her heart appeared to bleed through her white chest. Her lips were slick and glistening scarlet as if she gorged herself on the entrails of an animal. Her left eye was swollen shut and bleeding still, dripping onto the grass to make red dew droplets. She had scores of scratches down her back and flank, oozing bloody rivers across her sodden pelt. Yes, this is madness, she realized. 

“You—you smell of blood,” Kiteclaw stammered, lips quivering. Speaking seemed to strike more fear in her than the sight of the mangled cats around her. “You smell of Longscar’s blood.”

Grayjaw’s eyes burned into her now. The tomcat was slow to process Kiteclaw’s insinuation, but when he finally stomached sense, he began to heave his breaths. He held the rumbling thunder from above in his shaking body. “It—it can’t be… We trusted you!” He spat on the ground before her, nostrils flaring. She could see the silvery glint of his unsheathed claws against the ground. “But it is… It is true.” He looked to Longscar’s corpse, sadness glinting in his yellow eyes. “He was right about you all along.”

Sedgestrike was too weak to deny what she had done. She was too weak to realize what she had done. Shutting her eye, she bowed her head, yielding. If Longscar was dead, why did it still feel like he had won?

“You don’t even deny it?” Kiteclaw whispered. The shock and disappointment in her voice hurt more than Grayjaw’s rage. “Sedgestrike... How could you…” The warrior hesitated, moving closer to peer behind her at Fernstream. Her amber eyes flashed. “Fernstream… she’s…”

“So you killed your own mother too, then?” Grayjaw snapped, bolstering his presence with bristling fur and bared fangs. 

Sedgestrike froze, blood running cold. A sound rose from her that she did not recognize, a deep, guttural bellow that rivaled the ferocity of the thunder encroaching on them in the sky above. “I would never kill my mother!” She stood before Fernstream, refusing to budge. “She wasn’t killed by me. She was killed by him.” Her eye fell on Longscar, pitiless. “She didn’t deserve to die.” The boom in her voice faded and began to quiver. “She didn’t… deserve… to die.”

Sobs wracked her body, and she collapsed. Blood continued to drain from her wounds, weakening her. She curled back up against Fernstream as the other warriors regarded her, aghast. Her sobs became uncontrollable as she clung to Fernstream, trembling. 

“She didn’t deserve this—this is my fault. This—this is my fault,” she wailed, shrill and pitiful. 

“There needs to be an investigation.” Sedgestrike could barely hear Kiteclaw’s mew over her own deranged cries, for once they came, she was powerless to stop them. “I’ve known Sedgestrike since she was a kit… she grew up with my daughter. This isn’t her.”

“Longscar’s blood is on her paws,” Grayjaw growled. “And look at him! He’s been savaged like he was attacked by a fox.”

“But—“ Kiteclaw’s protest was cut off by the clear, cold peal of another voice.

“There will be no investigation here.”

Sedgestrike’s sobs failed her. That voice. Her good eye glanced back to see the tall, pale figure and burning amber eyes of her leader: Whitestar. She was flanked on either side by shadows, Batface and Spiderfang, and to the rear of them was Zinniablossom, Snakefang, and Claytooth. The Order of the Destined Paragons had arrived. 

Zinniablossom’s cry rang out and shook the surrounding pine trees to their roots. “Longscar!” 

She made a move to lunge for his decrepit body, only for Batface to snarl and pin her down. The tortoiseshell cried out as if she was being disemboweled, flailing and scratching at Batface. “He’s my mate! Let me go! I must see to him!”

“There’s nothing you can do now,” Batface grunted. His amber eyes were locked on Sedgestrike as he spoke. “He’s dead.”

Sedgestrike met his gaze, clenching her teeth. She found no blame or accusation in her old mentor’s gaze. Instead she saw… was it acceptance? A resignation? The old warrior shook his head and curled his lip at Zinniablossom as she continued to struggle against him.

Unlike Zinniablossom, Whitestar did not spare Longscar a passing glance. Instead, she came straight for Sedgestrike. She left no impression in the soft earth as she walked. Sedgestrike watched her leader, shivering. 

“What have you done?” Her words crashed down on Sedgestrike like an icicle; they were quiet, meant only to be heard by her.

Whitestar’s eyes found Fernstream and flashed. “MarshClan endures a great disservice today,” she observed. “A paragon... murdered.”

“No!” Sedgestrike protested, shakily rising to her paws. “No, he killed Fernstream!“

“So, this is a crime of vengeance then?” Whitestar mused, disgesting the scene with hungry eyes. “An eye for an eye?”

Lightning flashed as fast as Whitestar’s strike, and Sedgestrike failed to see her make a move until she felt the sting and was rendered back to the ground beside her dead mother. Her leader glared down on her, lips twisted in disgust. 

“Fool!” Whitestar hissed. “Remain there, or I will strike you again.”

The pain of the blow did well to keep Sedgestrike grudgingly staring at the blood-soaked earth. 

“Longscar was one of our own.” Whitestar paid her homage with a bowed head, weighed down by heavy words. She turned to the Order then, staring through them as they twitched and shuffled restlessly like hounds itching for the hunt. “The one keeper of his fate is also one of our own.” She craned her head back around to stare down at Sedgestrike coldly. “She decided to take justice into her own paws. She chose usurp me in favor of her own biased desire. How can we lay Longscar to the arms of the Eternal Night without first giving him justice?” 

Zinniablossom’s sobs echoed the booming thunder. Corpulent rain drops began to fall, slipping off the waxy reed stalks to drop onto the bleeding earth. Sedgestrike watched the rain fall with her one eye, catching a slight relief at the splashes of water that graced her aching face. Yet, no amount of water could wash her mounting regret. Lathered in fear and dirtied with guilt, Sedgestrike could scrub her paws for a lifetime, and she knew she would never be clean of this feeling… 

“As for Fernstream.” Whitestar’s eyes never left Sedgestrike. “We can never know the truth behind her fate so long as Longscar is dead. This heinous lack of witnesses, this destruction of evidence… why, it’ll only serve to disturb and confuse our Clanmates back in camp.”

“Whitestar!” Kiteclaw’s strangled protest resonated with the boom of thunder. The gray and white tabby was by her side, amber eyes glinting with a silent plea. “My liege, my leader,” she murmured imploringly. “We must not turn a blind eye to what happened here today. Fernstream deserves as much justice as Longscar does. She was never given trial—” 

“Enough!” Whitestar snapped, turning on Kiteclaw with a hiss. Sedgestrike watched, trembling, as her leader’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Fernstream lost her chance at justice and redemption” Her voice was chilling, sapped of emotion and frozen into ice. “May the Night have mercy on her soul.” 

“Whitestar,” Kiteclaw continued, moving to follow her leader as she whisked away back to the cats of the Order. “I entreat you, reconsider.” 

“And I entreat _you_ to hold your tongue, Kiteclaw,” Whitestar snapped, turning on her with the quickness of a striking viper. Her unblinking amber eyes burned into the warrior. Sedgestrike could see the glint of her unsheathed claws in the fading sunlight. “I will no longer tolerate weak wills within the Order. Justice is ugly and frightening. If you can’t look it in the eye, you can’t mean to stand for it.” 

Whitestar stalked toward the Order, and they became statues before her. As she pushed passed them, Sedgestrike could see the shiver in Snakefang’s gangly limbs. He was watching Sedgestrike with wide eyes, his jaw agape. 

“Snakefang, Claytooth,” Whitestar beckoned, “take Sedgestrike into custody. She will be returning to camp with us as a prisoner.” 

Upon Whitestar’s order, Snakefang and Claytooth looked to Sedgestrike with hardened resolve. Sedgestrike shivered; the numbness in her brain failed to grapple what was about to happen. Her body felt reduced to a pulp, bloody and useless. She felt the slow trickle of blood from her neck continue to soak her chest. The stench of death and loss of blood blurred her already harbored vision. She did not know they were coming to imprison her until their claws were latched onto her hindlegs, hooking them upwards so that only her chest and forelegs remained grounded. The pain struck like lightning, and she yowled with the thunder that followed. 

“No!” she cried. Her voice was hoarse after her screams. “Let me go! Mother!” 

As she was dragged away, she reached her blood-stained paw out for Fernstream desperately, but her mother only stared blankly back. 

She heard Whitestar’s voice coming from behind her. “As for Fernstream, it seems she successfully escaped MarshClan today, wouldn’t you agree?” After a brief pause, the only answer her leader received was the roar of the rushing river. “For the good of the Clan, we must leave them in ignorance. This injustice is our burden to bear.” 

There was another pause, and Sedgestrike scrabbled against the fetters of claws at her legs, which only injured her more. “Whitestar! No, please, don’t do this to her!” Sedgestrike begged. 

“Kiteclaw, since you were so concerned with her fate, you may do the honors of giving her body to the river.” Whitestar’s resolution fell onto the other paragon like a boulder. 

Kiteclaw did not speak her response. She merely nodded, refusing to look their leader in the eye. Slowly, the paragon approached the fallen warrior, gathering a small quarry of stones from the shore to settle around her. 

Sedgestrike watched in horror, reaching for Fernstream as she was dragged away. “No! Mother!” she screeched, flailing. “Mother!” 

Snakefang hissed as he buried his claws deeper. “Stop fighting us, it’ll only make things worse for you.” 

“Shut up!” she cried, twisting to swipe at the other paragon. “Let me bury her!” The world around her began to spin, blurring into shadows and evergreen and rushing blue. She tried to resist the fog that flooded her eye, but it only grew thicker. Turning back to face the shore, she watched as Kiteclaw began shoving rocks into her mother’s throat. 

“Please!” she begged in a screech. “Don’t do this to her!” 

“Claytooth, take control of her before the whole damn forest hears her,” Spiderfang ordered. 

A boom of thunder sounded as a paw struck the back of Sedgestrike’s head. Stars scattered into Sedgestrike’s eye, blinking at her. Darkness creeped at the edge of her vision, but through the narrow tunnel, she could still see the silhouette of her mother was she was rolled into the rushing river. With a loud splash and a hollow scream, it all went black as night.


	37. Azrael

CLOUDS gathered overhead, swirling in the sky around MarshClan’s camp. Corpulent raindrops fell from their heavy gray faces, splashing onto the grass of the clearing. On the fringes, sheltered by the overgrown knotweed that surrounded the camp, stood the whole of MarshClan. Their eyes glinted in the shadows and their pelts were bristling with fear and rage, for in the center of camp, bleeding and wheezing, was the warrior that killed one of their own. 

Sedgestrike blinked the water out of her eye as rain fell more fervently. The faces that surrounded her, hugged by thick leaves and dark shadows, were unfamiliar. Her vision blurred as blood poured from her wounds, staining the puddles growing around her red. Lightning flashed, bringing to light some of the faces of the MarshClan cats. She could see Jasminefur, holding her kits close with her tail, staring at her with nothing but fear. She saw Otternose, sneering, muttering to Dewpelt and Fogspots eagerly. 

No. Sedgestrike thought. I am not the one they should be afraid of. She tried to stand, to go to her Clanmates and explain, but she was knocked back to the muddy grass with a hiss. Standing over her was Grayjaw, and by his side was Snakefang. As her vision slowly began to clear, she could see the rest of the Order surrounding her, shielding her, or maybe imprisoning her, from the rest of the Clan. 

“MarshClan!” The cry from the Fallen Cypress gained the attention of all the gathered cats. Whitestar stood, her white pelt turned gray by the falling rain, glaring down on Sedgestrike with blazing amber eyes. “Earlier today, it was brought to my attention that there were traitors within MarshClan. Upon investigating the lead, I, along with my most trusted warriors, discovered a gruesome scene: Longscar... dead.” 

A flurry of disturbed murmurs arose from around Sedgestrike, engulfing her as thunder bellowed. She could see the glint of hate in the eyes of MarshClan. Bowing her head, she shut her eyes and tried to remember the gleam of Fernstream’s eyes as she felt her intestines liquify into fear in her belly. 

“Longscar’s murderer stands before you, and her name is Sedgestrike.” The flurry of whispers rose to a storm of hisses, rivalling the tumult above. Sedgestrike was trapped in the eye of the storm. The cyclone only grew stronger as Whitestar continued, “We must bring to justice the one that wronged one of our greatest warriors. We must honor his life by condemning the one that ended it too soon. In his memory, I bring the murderer to you, MarshClan, so you may see the lengths that traitors will go to silence us.” 

Lightning flashed across the churning sky, but the white hot heat was cool compared to the fire in Whitestar’s eyes. Sedgestrike stared up at Whitestar, knowing there was no hope of her leader letting her walk alive. Fear slowly began to wash away under the rain. Sedgestrike sat upright, keeping her chin held high in defiance. If she was to be made an example of, she would do so with pride. Longscar deserved to die. 

“We will hold a trial at sunrise,” Whitestar announced. 

A caterwaul of protests rose from the crowd. “No! Kill her!” The raving warriors carried on hungrily, eyeing Sedgestrike with hatred. “She does not deserve to be here!” 

Sedgestrike petrified into stone as the MarshClan cats carried on, calling for her head. She let their words slide off of her like the rain from her whiskers and blood from her fur. In her heart, a fire grew. She knew she could not contain it. “And what about Fernstream?” she cried out. 

Silence shook the Clan. For once, hate no longer flickered in their eyes. Instead, confusion befuddled their soaked faces. They glanced between another, searching for their missing Clanmate. Concerned whispers began to rise. 

Whitestar watched the mood unfold with a curled lip. “MarshClan,” she called. “Do not let this murderer confuse you. The details of the murder shall be discussed at the trial, Fernstream’s involvement included.” She jutted her chin at Sedgestrike. “Take her to the prisoners quarters.”

Jostled by Grayjaw and Snakefang, Sedgestrike was ushered toward the reeds that shouldered Mother Lake. She watched as they trembled in the wind, eager to hold her captive. Rotten leaves and putrid mud blanketed the ground of her cage, smelling of mildew and fish. She was tossed into the clutches of the reeds by Grayjaw and was left gagging by the odor of her new quarters. 

“Don’t worry,” Snakefang sneered. “You won’t be in there for long.” 

Grayjaw stood at the front of the prisoners quarters, silent, and Snakefang settled by his side. The younger warrior’s fiendish, toothy grin was barely visible in the darkening sky. Though the storm hid the stars, Sedgestrike knew night had fallen. The shadows consumed MarshClan now. The only light that was spared as that of the flashing lightning that crackled above. 

“I hope you make your peace now,” Snakefang rattled on. “Because you won’t have time to after the trial at sunrise.” 

Glaring at her captors, Sedgestrike curled into her muddy nest. She could feel the rot ooze into her open wounds and shiver. If she didn’t die at the claws of her Clanmates, she knew infection would happily oblige. Her wounded eye burned fiercely, and it was too swollen to blink or shut; she pawed at it angrily, feeling it ooze and itch, and then burn as she got mud into it. Sedgestrike licked the wounds on her shoulder, but felt the neglected wounds at her chest and throat only cry harder, causing a stream of red tears to rain down onto her already sopping bed. 

“There isn’t going to be a trial if I die in my sleep,” she rasped. 

Grayjaw’s yellow eyes glinted in her direction, his frown severe.   
“What are you going on about?” Snakefang hissed. 

“My wounds, you mousebrain,” Sedgestrike snapped. She cursed her tongue for flopping weakly in her mouth. Despite the fire in her heart, her body was draining fast. The bite she wanted, the ferocity she was known for, was hard to deliver when she was bleeding out like a gutted fish. “I won’t make it,” she continued hoarsely. “Whitestar’s precious trial will be all for naught if I’m dead at dawn.” 

Grayjaw hissed, shoving at Snakefang. “Go. Fetch Redleaf. We can’t have her dying... yet.” 

Snakefang curled a lip and slithered away grudgingly. His long tail carried in the wind behind him. 

An ethereal mist was falling from the sky now, bleached white by the weak moonlight that peered through the thinning clouds. Wind buffeted, hissing between the reeds, and causing the moss hanging from the cypress branches to wag excitedly. Sedgestrike watched the falling mist, eye half-shut. She remembered a nursery tale of the Clans Beyond the Horizon, where Marshstar and the first warriors came from. In the Clans Beyond the Horizon, frozen rain would fall from the sky. It would be so cold that their whiskers would feel stiff and their pelts would grow so thick, every cat would have a mane. The frozen rain was pure white as it fell, and it would melt to water once it touched a cat’s face.The frozen rain would stick to the earth once it fell, and the white wind would chase away the green from the trees and bushes. Even the rivers and lakes would freeze into stillness. The air would be so cold and silent, that the crunch of paws into the white could be heard from all corners of the land. Sedgestrike imagined standing in the cold with the frozen rain swirling around her, far, far away from MarshClan. She no longer felt her wounds burn. Maybe there was such thing as magic? 

“Sedgestrike.” 

Sedgestrike’s eye fluttered open and found Redleaf standing over her. His round, ginger face was sagging with fatigue like a drop of amber slipping from a piece of bark. She tried to rise to greet him, but her legs felt numb. 

“Don’t move,” he whispered. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“I’m well aware,” she retorted, settling on her side with a grunt. 

Redleaf said nothing, but brought a ball of wet moss to the wounds on her neck and shoulder, cleaning them. Sedgestrike watched as he continued to glance behind him. The mist was falling more rapidly now, creating a wall at the entrance of the prisoners quarters. Redleaf leaned in, as if to clean her eye. Instead, he whispered hurriedly, “Your littermates are safe. They have not been implicated in any way. Mudpaw was still in camp when Foxpaw returned with the news of Longscar. Yewbranch was not in camp, but I found her and had her return with me.” 

Sedgestrike felt her nerves settle at the news. She was so overcome with pain and adrenaline from what occurred on the border, she nearly forgot about the escape plan altogether. She ducked her head to show gratitude to Redleaf. But a question was still scratching at the back of her head. “What now?” 

Redleaf frowned as he soaked Sedgestrike’s wounded eye with the sodden moss ball. “I don’t know.” He began to slather her wounds with a sweet-smelling poultice. “The prophecy foretold of you and your littermates becoming stewards of Whitestar and the Place of Eternal Night, not implicated for murder and treason.” 

“Redleaf!” Grayjaw bellowed, causing both cats to freeze. “How’re you getting along in there?” 

Redleaf blinked away his shock, shaking his head irritably. “Rather fine until I was interrupted!” he replied, tail lashing. “I’ll be out momentarily.” 

Sedgestrike heard a grunt come from Grayjaw, but nothing more. Her eye found Redleaf in the dark of the den again. “I’m not talking about the prophecy,” Sedgestrike snapped under her breath. “Forget about the prophecy! I mean… what of our escape? My littermates? Myself?”

“Where’s Fernstream?” Redleaf asked suddenly. 

Sedgestrike stiffened, squeezing her eye shut. It felt as if her mended wounds were ripped open again at the mention of her name. The sight of her mangled, bloated body at the riverside intruded on her. “She’s…” 

“Sedgestrike,” Redleaf went on desperately, “I must know.” 

“She’s…” 

Sedgestrike felt stuck. Her tongue no longer wished to work. Her eye was trained on the shivering reeds. She could see Fernstream’s corpse getting rocks shoved down her throat. Her body… lost to the rushing river. 

“Sedgestrike!” Redleaf hissed shakily. “Please.” 

Sedgestrike shook her head. “She didn’t make it across. Longscar… killed her.” 

Redleaf froze, eyes wide. His jaw remained open, clacking uselessly as he struggled to speak. “I--but she’s…” 

Sedgestrike shook her head. 

Redleaf stood, shaking. “It can’t be…” 

“It can. It is,” Sedgestrike muttered bitterly. 

“I told her to stay. I begged her. She wouldn’t listen.” Redleaf’s stocky frame shook with choked back sobs. He laughed ruefully. “She never listens.” 

“Redleaf,” Sedgestrike continued, trying to find a sliver of sanity in his impossibly wide eyes. “What about us? How’re we going to escape? What’s the next plan?” 

Redleaf was still shaking. He shook his head rapidly, his teeth clicking as he muttered inaudibly. The reeds around them shuddered more violently. “There isn’t another plan,” he whispered. His eyes were convulsing in their sockets as he glanced around wildly. His whisper was barely audible, “Fernstream’s dead.” 

“Wh--what?” Sedgestrike rose to her paws in desperation. “What about Risen? Can’t they help? It’s not safe for us here. Redleaf!” The medicine cat was gathering his supplies as she panicked. “Please! What can we do?” 

Redleaf paused in his preparation to depart. His drooping face was barely visible in the shadows. “I’m sorry, Sedgestrike. There is nothing more we can do.” He sighed shakily. “The stakes are too high. Whitestar and the Order somehow infiltrated our escape plan. Our faction is compromised.”

“But… the trial is at dawn,” Sedgestrike whined. “Are you saying that… that I’m going to…” 

With trembling lips, Redleaf murmured, “It’s over. We can’t win.” 

The medicine cat left in a rush, disappearing into the showering mist. Wind howled outside the prison cell. In his haste, Redleaf forgot to bandage Sedgestrike’s wounds with cobwebs. She could feel blood pool against the poultice. She thought she could smell death. The night felt endless in her cell. Time stretched on forever into the unclear mist Sedgestrike stared into. For once, Sedgestrike welcomed the night, for she knew on the horizon, death was waiting.


	38. The Gambit

WAVES of purple, green, and blue splashed around Sedgestrike, swaddling her in a dizzying swathe of color. The colors dimmed, darkening into blackness, hugging her tight. It became hard for her to breathe. Her eye rolled. Where was the light? Her stomach began to flip and flop in her belly like a fish out of water, struggling to hop out of her jaws and return to the lake. 

“Sedgestrike.” A rasping whisper sounded from far away, calling her from the swirling shadows and spinning dismal hues. 

“Sedgestrike.” 

The world was spinning. With a thud, she was on her back, watching it continue to spiral around her. Squeezing her eye shut, she felt like her body was rolling deeper and deeper into the dark. There were no more colors, only nothingness. Pain met her in a blaze. Her body shook and trembled as fought the urge to wail. The herbs Redleaf gave her faded and left her with an ache that was worse than before. It blossomed from her face to her throat and down her whole body; not a single bone was free from the fire. 

“I deserve this,” Sedgestrike sputtered. She felt her entire body set aflame; breathing became impossible as the fire settled in her lungs. “I am ready to die.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Batface mewed. He pushed his paw against her shoulder, rolling her up to face him. Sedgestrike’s eye shot open and found his muzzle. It was grayer than she remembered. “You won’t die here. Not like this.”

Sedgestrike squinted. Batface’s frame seemed to blend with the shadows. At least his eyes burned bright. She found his gaze easily.

“Why not?” She chuckled bitterly. “It’s what you want, right? Paragon.” The word was acid dripping from her lips. 

Batface shut his eyes and sighed, releasing her so she flopped back onto her belly like a dehydrated fish. “There was a time when I would have agreed with you, Sedgestrike,” he rasped.

Sedgestrike’s good eye rolled to watch him. His scarred face sagged like moss from a dying tree. “I wanted nothing more than to serve the Order. I wanted power and respect, and I was eager to pay the price of servitude if it meant something.” Batface shuddered, shaking his head sadly. “How foolish I was,” he growled.

“You knew what they were like… You knew all this time, and you still didn’t do anything to change it,” Sedgestrike hissed, disappointed. She felt her heart peeling away, receding into nothing. “And now my mother is dead. And you--you didn’t do anything!”

“By the time I found out, it was too late!” Batface’s gravelly voice faltered, grinding to a halt as he gazed down at Sedgestrike. She had a feeling he was looking down at her and seeing someone else. He never looked at her this way before. He breathed raspily. “I came here to tell you something. Something I should’ve told you the day you joined the Order.”

Sedgestrike stared balefully at the old warrior. 

“There was a she-cat… Leechpelt.” The name rolled off his tongue painfully, he winced as he spoke it. “She was once a member of the Order. There was a day her loyalties to Whitestar were tested... and she failed.”

Sedgestrike was swimming in her mind, trying to remember when she had heard that name before. 

“But she was more than a member of the Order… she was my daughter,” Batface croaked. He looked at Sedgestrike, looked through her. His voice became as cold and flat as stone. “You know what happens to those that oppose Whitestar…”

“Oh, Batface, I’m sorry—“

“Don’t be,” he growled. “I was the one that killed her.”

Sedgestrike swallowed her tongue. Batface gaze became a glare. His deep orange eyes burned like fire into her. Dozens of thoughts flooded her at once. The urge to strike him began to rise. 

“How could you—“

“Let me finish,” he continued, voice strained. “When I was informed of my daughter’s supposed treachery, at first I was livid. ‘How could she do such a thing?’ I wondered.” He snorted, rolling his eyes. “Then I realized I had lost myself. It shouldn’t have mattered what my daughter did because she was still my daughter.” He lowered his head, sighing shakily. “Yes. No matter what, she was still my daughter.” 

A shiver wracked his frame as he croaked, “I knew Whitestar wouldn’t let her walk free in exile… She was too far gone. So… I volunteered to be the one that would kill her.”

“You.. you volunteered?” Sedgestrike stammered, eye wide in shock. “Batface, your own daughter?” 

“I didn’t want it to be anyone else.” He bit back a sob, hiding it with a snarl. “If anyone else did her in, they would’ve been cruel. Who knows the torture she would have suffered through before they finished her?” He grimaced with disgust. “I made it quick, clean… painless.”

“Oh, and that’s supposed to make you some kind of hero?” Sedgestrike snapped. Anger rose in her chest, crawling into her throat as a growl. 

Batface smiled sadly. “No. But at the time, I thought it was my only option.” He shivered. “My mate, her mother, Wisteriapetal, was already in StarClan by then... waiting for her. I wanted to be the one to send her there.”

“How could you?” Sedgestrike whispered. Her anger faded into sadness. She knew her mentor was a murderer. As a member of the Order, she knew he probably killed many Fallen in his lifetime, but she didn’t look at him as a killer until now, and it felt like she was impaled by a bed of claws. 

“I thought I was doing the right thing, but the more I thought about it, the less sense it made.” Batface’s eyes were tired as he looked at Sedgestrike now. He looked like he hadn’t slept in moons. “I think this is… I think you are… my second chance.”

Sedgestrike blinked slowly. “Me?”

“This is my chance to make it up to my daughter. To redeem myself, maybe. Give myself some shred of honor.” He leaned into her, whispering, “I’m going to get you out of here, Sedgestrike. I won’t lose you too.” 

Sedgestrike’s jaw fell open, but before she could speak, he was already backing away. “No!” she shrieked. “No! Don’t leave me!”

Melting into the shadows, only Batface’s eyes remained visible. “Don’t let me die in vain. When the opportunity arises, you must run.” 

Again, Sedgestrike was left with nothing but shadows for company. Outside her prison, she heard locusts begin to scream. She rolled in her makeshift nest of leaves. A stray twig snapped against her wounded shoulder, and she growled in pain. 

“Hey! Quiet in there!” Her guard, Snakefang, snarled. 

Sedgestrike curled her lip and bit back a retort. She heard the rustle of the reeds outside, coupled with the sound of padding paws. 

“Oh, more visitors?” Snakefang deadpanned. 

Sedgestrike’s eye found the dimly lit entrance. Two silhouettes stood out in the fog. One tall, one small, both with their heads held high and tails raised. 

“O-oh! My apologies, Whitestar, Spiderfang--” Snakefang’s blunder was cut short. 

“The prisoner?” Whitestar’s voice sliced through the fog like ice. 

“Y-yes, she’s still within. Shall I lead you to her?” 

Whitestar replied by walking passed the gaurd, coming to stand before Sedgestrike. Her movements were so swift she seemed to materialize from the fog. Her pelt was as pale as a spectre and her eyes glowed like brimstone. 

“You had visitors, then? How quaint.” Whitestar’s eyes flashed. Nostrils flaring, her eyes narrowed as she spoke, “I can smell him. Was it Batface coming to say farewell?” 

A snicker sounded from Whitestar’s shadow. “Maybe he came to scorn her for bringing such shame onto him?” 

Sedgestrike watched as Spiderfang’s eyes flashed. The snakes in her prison slithered forward, fangs dripping with venom each time they spoke. 

“Enough, Spiderfang. We haven’t come to taunt.” Whitestar glared down at Sedgestrike. “We’re here to offer you a deal.” She took a seat before her, wrapping her tail neatly around her paws. 

Sedgestrike mirrored her leader, but she swayed as she rose to her seat. Her wounds still stung, having been hastily patched up by Redleaf. She could smell the stench of blood wafting off her body, and it was starting to reek of something more vile. 

“A deal?” Sedgestrike echoed. 

Whitestar nodded. “In exchange for information, we will grant you a full pardon at your trial. We will claim you were… tricked and that nothing more than a pawn in a scheme that spiralled out of control.”

Spiderfang remained in Whitestar’s shadow, smiling eagerly. “It’s a rather fine offer, you see. Some mere names and in exchange you get to keep your head!” 

Sedgestrike narrowed her good eye, while the other remained swollen shut. It pulsated within her face, making her lip curl in torture. “What names do you think I could give?” 

“The names of your accomplices!” Spiderfang spat. “We know you didn’t work alone! Do you think we’re mousebrained? Who came up with this plot? Was it Blueflower?” 

Whitestar raised her tail. “Enough, Spiderfang,” she murmured coolly. Her face softened as she regarded Sedgestrike once more. “Sedgestrike, you are a good warrior. You’re strong and loyal. We know you would never purposefully try to betray your Clan. There had to be others that planted this doubt in your head.” She leaned in, bringing a paw to the torn side of Sedgestrike’s face, brushing it gently down to her jaw. “You are destined for greatness, remember? This was just… a small obstacle in the grandeur of your destiny.”

Sedgestrike froze as she was touched. Whitestar’s amber eyes were as soft as a hemlock’s petal. She could see nothing but death in their depths. She shoved her paw away, hissing. “You know nothing about my destiny.” Her golden eyes flashed. “You are wrong, Whitestar. You always were. You are wrong about everything. The way you lead, the spirits you serve, the justice you stand for… it’s twisted and vile and I’d rather die than give you the name of any cat that dares to stand in your way.”

Whitestar’s face cracked. There was a slight tremble in her lips before the venom came dripping again. “Very well. If that’s all you have to say, I suppose we’re done here.” Rising to her paws, she shook her head at Sedgestrike. “Get ready to die in vain, Sedgestrike. You may think you stand for a noble cause, but how can a cause be noble when no one will rise to stand for it besides you?”

In a flash of white, she left the prison, Spiderfang still clinging to her shadow. There was no fog for them to disappear into now. Instead, a dim gray light was shining as dawn broke through. Whitestar halted outside the shelter of reeds, turning to Grayjaw and Snakefang. “Bring Sedgestrike to the clearing. It’s daybreak. Her trial is to begin now.”


	39. Over the Edge Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The last glimpse of sunset, a green flash shoots up into the sky. Some go their whole lives without ever seeing it. Some claim to have seen it who ain't. And some say...  
> It signals when a soul comes back to this world from the dead."

“MARSHCLAN!” 

From the Fallen Cypress, Whitestar called her Clan to gather. The cats poured from their dens like ants to swarm the clearing. Puddles of rain water and mud collected between them. The grass was sodden from the night before. Above, heavy clouds of gray swirled, veiling the sun. Only a dim light shone through, scarcely chasing the shadows from the early morn. Vultures spiralled beneath the clouds and above the camp. Their large black wings cast more shadows below. 

The MarshClan cats began to murmur worriedly, staring at a body dressed in flowers at the center of the clearing. A dark gray tabby was adorned with marigold blossoms and white lilies. Smothering his mangled throat were red zinnias, but the massive red petals did little to hide the gore. If anything, they accentuated it. In his jaws was the bundle of sage meant to help guide him to his final resting place. Despite the sickly sweet smell, flies began to gather and relish the rot as the body sweltered in the humidity.

Jasminefur was quick to usher her kits back into the nursery at the sight of the corpse. 

“With a heavy heart, I must address our latest crime,” Whitestar announced. “One of our greatest warriors was slain yesterday. We brought him to you, so that you may grieve our loss before we bring his killer to justice.”

The MarshClan cats bowed their heads and shut their eyes as the vigil began.  
“As one of our greatest mentors and protectors of the Code, he was named Longpath. Many of his apprentices still stand with us today, while others have laid down their lives, as he has, in the name of their Clan.”

A sniffle arose from the crowd, coming from Zinniablossom. She grieved into Sandthroat’s shoulder while she watched Whitestar deliver her eulogy. 

“He was also a fierce fighter. In battle, he suffered a wound so great, he almost fell to it. None could doubt his courage or loyalty after that day. Once he recovered, he came to me, humbly asking to be named Longscar, for he was proud to overcome such a grave injury and wished to be known for it. So, Longscar he became.” 

“Hear, hear!” exclaimed the crowd of MarshClan cats in cheer for the name of their lost warrior. 

Sedgestrike watched her Clan cluster close and cheer for Longscar. Her lip peeled back in disgust. They were a murder of crows, gathering around the dead eagerly, preening their feathers and spreading their wings, all too eager to see the blood to be repaid. She could hardly recognize her Clanmates now. They shrunk from crows and contorted into bees. Buzzing the same tune, they moved lifelessly at the bequest of their almighty queen, ignorant of their shortening lifespan. They would all sacrifice their lives without question for the good of their hive, for the sake of their queen, and they accepted their fate, so long as they could soak their bodies in the honeycomb and blind themselves with sweet pollen. 

“Bring forth the accused!” Whitestar ordered from her perch. 

By her haunches, Sedgestrike was dragged. She did not protest. Though the feeling of Snakefang’s claws digging into her stung, and the force of Grayjaw’s tugs ached, she kept her jaw locked and her one good eye on Whitestar. Hisses and spits greeted her as she was placed before Longscar’s corpse. She was forced to see him close. He looked even worse than she remembered. The heat of riverswell encouraged his body to rush towards decay. His body was bloated, full of death. If not for the flowers to disguise the gore, Sedgestrike may have lost her composure. Did she really do that to him? 

“Sedgestrike,” Whitestar mewed. “You are brought before MarshClan today, accused of murdering Longscar. Witnesses claim you did so to allow your mother, Fernstream, to escape into the Land of the Fallen and betray her Clan.” 

“Fernstream…” Sedgestrike whispered under her breath. She shut her eye and shivered. She felt a coldness sink into her bones and freeze the marrow within. She needed someone, a friendly face. But all she saw before her was the Order. They were lined up before her below Whitestar’s perch on the Fallen Cypress. Batface was among them, but his eyes were shut. He seemed to be muttering something, but she could not hear over the buzzing flies and shrieking vultures. 

Turning around to look for Yewbranch, or Ospreyflight, or Blueflower, she was stopped by a smack to her jaw. On either side of her, Snakefang and Grayjaw remained. It was Grayjaw that struck her, and now he was eyeing her fiercely, daring her to look back again. She refused to oblige him.

“The witnesses stand before you, Sedgestrike. The whole of my most trusted warriors,” Whitestar continued. She craned her head over the row of cats that sat before the hollow trunk she sat on. The entirety of the Order of the Destined Paragons glared daggers at Sedgestrike. Sedgestrike took the repeated stabbing of glare after glare with clenched teeth and bristled fur. “You were once among them,” Whitestar pointed out scathingly. “Excelling in strength and duty, it was I that dubbed you an honor graduate. You once represented a class of warriors most high. You once were a warrior to be looked up to, an example of what hard work and dedication could create. Now, you stand before me and the rest of MarshClan accused of murdering another of the most prestigious in your Clan. What do you have to say in your defense?”

Sedgestrike’s eye rolled up to watch the buzzards circle. They seemed closer now. The heat of day was upon them. The clouds could only contain so much heat before they coughed blows of humidity. Longscar’s rotting body beckoned the buzzards. Sedgestrike thought she could hear the beat of their wings. At least Longscar would be shielded from their hungry beaks in the safety of the earth. As for Fernstream… She was left for the fish to feed on.

“My defense…” Sedgestrike breathed.

Camp was so quiet, one could hear the flutter of a butterfly’s wing. Humidity grew thicker, drawing the air from the cats’ lungs. 

“I have no defense,” Sedgestrike admitted at last. “Not for myself. I know what I’ve done.” She glared at Whitestar. “I am not going to waste my time defending myself. Instead, I’ll be defending the cat that didn’t get this chance. My mother. Fernstream.”

“Silence!” Whitestar hissed, eyes blazing. “She lost her privilege the moment she chose to leave us! This is about you—“

“But you assumed she was leaving, didn’t you? You didn’t get to hear her side. You didn’t give her the chance! And now she’s dead.”

Shocked murmurs rose from the crowd of MarshClan cats. Soon, the shock gave way to rage and it rippled through the cats, causing their pelts to bristle and their eyes to glint. 

“She lies!” 

“Justice for Fernstream!”

“Just kill her!”

The whirlwind of cries rattled Sedgestrike’s bones. Lightning struck the Clan, sending them into a frenzy. Electrified by fear and rage and confusion, their voices came together and thundered. 

“I avenged Fernstream! I avenged all of those that fell to you and your “trusted” warriors when I killed Longscar!” Sedgestrike did not know how her voice was able to ring out above the rest. She felt like the fire and fury of all the cosmos were within her. 

“Silence!” Whitestar cried.

“No! I won’t be silent! Not anymore. I won’t stand by and let you silence anyone that chooses to oppose you. We serve and fight and provide for this Clan and we deserve to be heard!” 

The MarshClan cats began to quiet, catching Sedgestrike’s words with slackjaws. 

“You’re a coward!” Sedgestrike cried. “You hide behind your warriors and let their paws get dirtied with the blood of the innocent in the name of justice. Well, I see no justice here! If justice were true, my mother would still be alive!” 

MarshClan began to stir uncomfortably, glancing between one another, not knowing what to look for. 

“Grayjaw, Snakefang, take her—“ 

“Whitestar,” Batface rasped, opening his eyes at last. “You must let her speak. The laws of the trial command it. The accused must always get their defense.” 

Whitestar’s tail lashed. “No,” she decided coldly. “She is not voicing her defense, she is inciting disorder and confusion.” 

“You see?” Sedgestrike growled. “Again, she chooses to silence those that dare defy her. Do not be so foolish and think she will not treat you the same way. We are all just pawns she can dispose of, nothing more.”

Unrest disquieted the MarshClan cats. Some shuddered, others seethed, the rest were frozen. 

“I only dispose of those that are a danger to the Clan,” Whitestar admitted plaintively. Her gaze raked over the Clan. “My duty as leader is to protect and guide each and every one of you, to ensure you lead safe and comfortable lives in exchange for your toil. Those that wish to corrupt what it is we work for are those I send away.”

“But you don’t send them away, do you?” Sedgestrike snapped. “Those Fallen, those cats, they never again see the light of day when they leave MarshClan camp.”

“You are truly misguided, Sedgestrike,” Whitestar mewed. “I pity you, I do. The Fallen are given a life in exile in exchange for their crimes. But you? You will not be given that chance. To think I would let you walk out of my camp after showing such insubordination. After you insult our way of life, spit on the corpse of the cat you slayed, you think I would let you walk free to join the Fallen?” 

Sedgestrike stiffened, her blood cooling from a boil to ice. 

“You’ve admitted to killing Longscar, and you’ve showed no remorse in doing so.” Whitestar jumped down from the Fallen Cypress. Her face was as cold and blank as a bed of frost. The Order parted before her, creating an aisle that led straight to Sedgestrike. 

On either side of her, Grayjaw and Snakefang pressed close, blocking her movement. But their closeness was unnecessary, Sedgestrike was already frozen under the infuriated gaze of Whitestar. She moved slowly but gracefully like a beast on the prowl, and Sedgestrike knew she was the prey. The only thing between them was Longscar’s lifeless body. 

“The punishment for your crime is death. A life for a life, the blood must be repaid, and no one else in MarshClan is fitted for such a heavy task but myself,” Whitestar mewed. 

“We must rise!” A cry from the crowd sounded. 

Whitestar faltered, eyes flashing. 

Sedgestrike forgot how to breathe. She was unable to look and see where the cry came from, who it was. 

Then, another voice sounded. “There is no justice!” 

“No justice! No justice! No justice!” 

The chant came from different voices all around the camp, loud and angry. Whitestar’s eyes glanced about furiously, trying to find the cat responsible, but as one voice faded another rose up somewhere else. 

“We must rise! We must rise! We must rise!” 

“Find the traitors,” Whitestar commanded scathingly to the Paragons flanking her. “Do not allow them to stir our Clan into chaos.” 

As the Paragons began to peel away from Whitestar, the chanting grew louder. Sedgestrike was being crushed between Grayjaw and Snakefang, and she felt like she could no longer fill her lungs. All the Paragons began to filter through the crowd, all but Batface. He remained beside Whitestar, eyes shut, unmoving. Sedgestrike could see him shaking. 

“That was an order, Batface,” Whitestar hissed. Sedgestrike thought she heard her voice falter. 

“I won’t,” Batface grunted. 

“What?” Whitestar growled. Her claws were unsheathed now, glinting in the dim moonlight. 

The entire Clan was silenced by their exchange, watching with wide eyes. Thunder sounded, deep and loud like the pounding heart in Sedgestrike’s chest. 

“I won’t do it.” He gazed into her eyes unwaveringly. There was not the slightest twinge of fear in his face. “Sedgestrike is right about you. You do not rule with justice, you rule with fear.” 

For once, Whitestar’s cold visage broke. Cracking like ice against the river flow, nothing but shock remained. 

“Let her go,” Batface whispered. “Prove that there is a shred of mercy left in you. Please. Show me you still have it.”

Instead of coldness, Whitestar now wore an expression of boiling rage. “You are nothing but an old fool,” she dismissed, spitting. “You allowed your brain to be poisoned by the traitors. Traitors do not deserve mercy.” 

“Whitestar,” Batface rasped. 

“Seize him!” 

Before the Paragons could return to Whitestar’s side, Batface shrieked. His caterwaul was followed by a spray of blood. Sedgestrike watched as a shadow took over Whitestar, pinning her to the ground and staining her white fur red with its touch. Screams of terror sounded as Batface brought his claws down on Whitestar’s face. 

“Your reign of terror ends here, Whitestar,” Batface roared. “I won’t let you hurt anyone else! I won’t let you take anything else away from me!”

Snakefang and Grayjaw rushed for Whitestar, and Sedgestrike could breathe again. She fell into the grass as freedom rushed into her. She watched horrified as Batface was taken down by Grayjaw. Before he could hit the ground, his eyes found her, and unmistakeably he mouthed, “Run.” 

Distant thunder boomed as Sedgestrike was engulfed once more in chaos. Bodies rushed in every direction, cries of fear and anger rose from MarshClan. Splashes of water and blood filled the air. Sedgestrike pushed through the crowd, knowing this would be her only chance to escape. She heard the bloodcurdling cry of Batface and shuddered. Before her she saw a smudge of different colored pelts as MarshClan scattered and panicked. 

Then a crash, and Sedgestrike was knocked to the ground. She looked up in confusion, seeing Zinniablossom staring down at her, enraged. 

“Look what you’ve done!” she cried. 

Zinniablossom raised her claws, only to be tackled by Littlebrook. Sedgestrike got to her paws, eye wide with disbelief. Littlebrook’s blue eyes flashed. 

“Run,” she mewed as she kept Zinniablossom restrained. 

It all made sense then. Sedgestrike looked around once more, realizing what she was seeing. Risen fought within the crowd, keeping the Paragons at bay as the rest of the Clan darted around in confusion, unsure of who to fight for, who to fight against. 

“Run!” Littlebrook mewed again before getting slashed by Zinniablossom’s claws. Blood splattered across Sedgestrike’s face, and the warmth and reek of it stirred her instinct. Run. 

She moved for the sawgrass, carried by the wind of her need to survive. 

Run. 

She jumped over Claytooth’s body. She wasn’t sure if he was dead or alive. 

Run. 

She was crashing through the sawgrass and sugarcane, feeling her fur tear. The screams from camp followed at her heels. 

Sedgestrike could see the glint of the marsh water through the grasses ahead, but then a shadow emerged. Round, frightened green eyes stared at her through the dark. 

Mudpaw. 

Sedgestrike slowed, coming to a halt before her brother. She was panting shakily. In her haste to escape, she reopened her wounds. Blood slowly trickled down her body. 

“Mudpaw,” she rasped. “What are you doing?”

Mudpaw stared at her trembling. “Why did you say those things?” he whimpered. 

Sedgestrike panted, shaking her head. “Mudpaw, now’s not the time. I can explain more to you later, but I need to get through—“

“No!” Mudpaw’s fur bristled. “I—I won’t let you. Not until you admit you were lying.” 

“Lying?” Sedgestrike shook her head. “No, no I wasn’t! Everything I said was true, Mudpaw. Our mother is dead, Longscar killed her—“

“No!” Mudpaw cried. “No, he wouldn’t do that! He was good and loyal. He would never…”

“Yes, he would,” Sedgestrike assured him softly. She took a step closer to him. “They would all do the same, if Whitestar wanted them to.” 

“Stop! Just stop. Why do you always do this? Why do you have to mess everything up? Why can’t you just—just—“

Behind her she heard the rustle and panting of several cats. 

“Don’t let her get away!”

“She’s up ahead! Stop her!”

Sedgestrike’s heart fluttered. Panic settled into her bones, rattling her. She looked to her brother in desperation. “Mudpaw, everything I’ve ever done, I’ve done to keep you safe. I would never lie about our mother. Now, please, let me through. Or--or come with me, if you want. Come with me and I’ll show you the truth—“ 

“No!” Mudpaw unsheathed his claws, still shaking. “You will not escape. You can’t run away from what you’ve done.”

The crashing came louder now, more frantic. They were gaining on her, fast. 

Sedgestrike shut her eye. “I’ll ask one more time, let me go,” she whispered desperately, voice shaking. 

“I—I won’t.” Mudpaw stood firm, lips trembling. 

“I’m sorry,” Sedgestrike cried. Lunging forward, she last saw her brother with wide eyes full of fear before she slashed across the bridge of his nose, sending blood squirting into his gaze. 

She was left with the echo of his pained, enraged wails as she crashed into the marsh. Water splashed up in her wake, wetting her bloody, muddy fur and bogging her down. Her splashes were echoed by her pursuers. She glanced back to see Zinniablossom, Otternose, and Spiderfang on her tail. 

She knew she would not be able to outrun them for long. She knew she could not make it across the river without being caught.

She knew what she had to do. 

Breaking into the palmetto grove, she bounded through, getting dusted with sugar sand. She could feel Zinniablossom’s hot breath on her tail tip. On either side of her, Spiderfang and Otternose were closing in, flanking her. She was being corralled. 

Halting, she turned on Zinniablossom, screeching as she lashed her claws out to catch her chin. The she-cat snarled in pain, buckling backwards. Sedgestrike seized the gap and charged up towards the higher standing cypress forest, towards the training gully. She weaved through the cypress knees and ferns, hearing Spiderfang and Otternose close behind. 

She found Oakbridge, running across it. The spongy moss growing on the tree sabotaged her footing, and she careened to the side of the bridge, clinging to it by her two front paws as her body swung. 

She heard Spiderfang giggle eagerly. “We’ve got her now!” 

Sedgestrike scrabbled up the side of Oakbridge as Spiderfang closed in with Otternose not too far behind him. Excitedly, he pounced but Sedgestrike was ready, sliding onto her back, she timed her kick well, and sent him flying off the side of the bridge, forcing him to cling to its side. 

Turning, she rushed for the cover of bracken. Cypress knees protruded from the sodden earth, hungrily chomping at the rushing bodies. She weaved between the earthy fangs, getting her ribs grazed in her haste. Otternose was close behind. Sedgestrike could hear the she-cat’s nimble paws effortlessly glide closer. 

The shadows of the cypress forest reached for Sedgestrike as the storm clouds above began to churn, rumbling ominously. Mud clawed at her paws, dragging her down into the bog, where she would meet an early grave. Her muscles tore through the struggle, screaming with the effort. She refused to die here. Red and green ferns brushed against her muddy, bloody fur, catching droplets of scarlet running off her body. Fog began to filter through the undergrowth, beckoning Sedgestrike into the gray light. 

Otternose was reaching for her then; her claws emerged from the ferns, raking at Sedgestrike’s hindleg. She screeched as Otternose buried her claws in her. Whirling onto her back, she kicked furiously, feeling her back paw collide with Otternose’s chest. Her pursuer grunted in pain, only to leap from the thick, dark ferns and land on top of her, hissing. Sedgestrike’s eye widened in rage. She was too close to lose now. Otternose bit at her shoulder, and Sedgestrike stole the opportunity to bring her heavy paw onto the side of her face, dragging her claws down Otternose’s ear, shredding it. Otternose screamed, recoiling off of Sedgestrike. 

Ahead, the river roared. Swollen with rain, it belched billows of mist into the air, which swirled over the water quarry of boulders. The heavy mist sluggishly crawled over the lip of the cliff, breathing into the forest. Sedgestrike could taste the river in the silvery motes. A stretch of sleek grass was all that stood between her and the cliff’s edge. 

“Aha! She’s stuck! She’s stuck!” Spiderfang cheered from the shadows of the forest. 

Sedgestrike did not wait for his parade to arrive, she broke for the cliff, limping furiously. Blood trickled from her wounded leg, slowing her. Her ragged breath disturbed the thickening mist, sending it cascading over her broad shoulders like a gray cape. 

The deputy emerged with his warriors flanking him. Blood dribbled from Zinniablossom’s nose, staining her bared teeth red. Otternose was panting heavily, blood running into her eye from her torn ear. They slowly closed in on Sedgestrike, tails lashing eagerly. 

Sedgestrike’s back leg buckled as she reached the edge of the cliff, and she lay before its sheer drop. She rolled, looking down from the edge, seeing jagged rocks blurred by the misty air. Foam spurted from the dripping jaws of hungry waves. The river rushed doggedly, hunting for the end. Sedgestrike slowly turned her head, seeing the MarshClan cats grinning at her inevitable capture. 

“Best stop now!” Spiderfang crowed. “You’re good as dead. No one can survive that fall.” 

Rising shakily to her paws, Sedgestrike glared at the deputy. Her breath became more rapid and shallow, and her eye rolled to the rushing river. Through the mist, she thought she could see the shine of pale green eyes. Something squirmed in her chest. A need, a calling, to the end. Her body was ice. Her body was fire. 

Sedgestrike jumped. 

She was greeted by the sound of a crash. 

Followed by darkness. 

Then pain. 

_"The sun will set on us unless we rise."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About a month shy of a year, the first installation of We Rise has come to an end.   
> I would like to end with this: Thank you. Thank all of you for taking the time to read and enjoy and think about my work. Every second you spend on each word gives me the motivation to continue and embrace life, both fictional and actual. Your support, encouragement, and kind words have given me so much that I can hardly put into words how grateful I am to you, the reader, for joining my and my characters on this journey... and it's only just beginning!
> 
> We Rise: Starfall will be starting before the beginning of summer, and I promise to uphold all that I have given to you and more.
> 
> To you, the reader, I wish wealth, health, and happiness. Feel free to contact me personally, if you wish. My inbox is always open.


	40. The Cast of We Rise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cast as of Chapter 1 in _We Rise: The Beginning of the End_.

Allegiances

**Leader:** Whitestar - tall, white she-cat with amber eyes.  
**Deputy:** Spiderfang - small, black tom with amber eyes.  
**Medicine Cat:** Redleaf - stocky, dark ginger tabby tom with golden eyes.  
-Medicine Cat Apprentice, Heronpaw - tall, blue-gray tom with icy blue eyes. 

**Warriors:**  
Batface: flat-faced, black tom with a scarred muzzle and orange eyes  
-Apprentice, Sedgepaw  
Claytooth: large, dark ginger tabby tom with yellow eyes.  
Fernstream: long-haired, tawny tabby she-cat with a white chest and paws and green eyes.  
Shaleheart: mottled brown tabby tom with yellow eyes.  
-Apprentice, Blackpaw  
Otternose: dark brown ticked tabby she-cat with amber eyes.  
Mothfur: golden brown tabby tom with amber eyes.  
-Apprentice, Lilypaw  
Molefoot: small, grizzled black cat with amber eyes.  
Sandthroat: pale ginger tomcat with a white chest and yellow eyes.  
-Apprentice, Toadpaw  
Egretsong: cream and white she-cat with golden eyes.  
Longscar: dark gray tabby tom with a scar down his left side and amber eyes.  
-Apprentice, Mudpaw  
Kiteclaw: gray tabby she-cat with white markings and amber eyes.  
Grayjaw: gray and white tom with yellow eyes and a protruding jaw.  
Fogspots: white tom with gray splashes and green eyes.  
Vinestripe: skinny, brown tabby tom with green eyes.  
Minnowtail: gray tabby tom with white paws and green eyes.  
Palemist: pale silver she-cat with blue eyes.  
-Apprentice, Yewpaw  
Dewpelt: dappled gray she-cat with blue eyes.  
Gingerstep: ginger she-cat with yellow eyes.  
Zinniablossom: tortoiseshell she-cat with amber eyes.  
Snakefang: skinny, dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes and a long tail.  
-Apprentice, Pebblepaw  
Blueflower: long-haired, blue-gray she-cat with blue eyes  


**Apprentices:**  
Blackpaw: long-haired, black tom with green eyes.  
Yewpaw: tawny tabby she-cat with a white chest and green eyes.  
Ospreypaw: black and white she-cat with yellow eyes.  
Sedgepaw: large, long-haired, dark brown tabby with white chest and paws and golden eyes.  
Mudpaw: mottled brown tom with green eyes and tufted ears.  
Toadpaw: dark brown, flat-faced tom with amber eyes.  
Lilypaw: white she-cat with green eyes.  
Pebblepaw: dappled gray tom with blue eyes.  


**Queens:**  
**Allmother:** Shellshine, tortoiseshell and white she-cat with green eyes.  
Juniperheart: pale tortoiseshell with yellow eyes.  
Hollyfoot: dark ginger she-cat with green eyes (mother of: Foxkit).  
Jasminefur: white she-cat with yellow eyes (mother of: Magnoliakit and Hawthornkit).  


**Elders:**  
Cypressfang: long-haired, dark brown tabby tom with green eyes.  
Larkwing: brown tabby tom with a white chest and belly and amber eyes.  
Owleyes: tawny tabby she-cat with yellow eyes and white markings.  
Vervainclaw: pale gray tom with blue eyes.  
Russetnose: long-haired, dark brown tom with long whiskers and golden eyes.  



End file.
